


Demeowniac

by XiuChen4Ever



Series: CatDemon AU [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Catboy!Tao, Catboys & Catgirls, Demon!Chen, Demon!Lu Han, Demon!Tao, Genital Piercing, Investigator!Xiumin, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Private Investigators, Sadism, Urban Fantasy, Violence, catboy!chen, terrible puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-08-03 20:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 54,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16332746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiuChen4Ever/pseuds/XiuChen4Ever
Summary: Private Investigator Jin Xiumin always gets his man, even when that man is actually a demon.  In fact, it's easier that way, thanks to his own bratty-but-beloved incubus familiar and a stray imp that they've become rather fond of.Former Chief Inspector Kim Minseok now works as a PI in Beijing, making it known through certain circles that he's unfazed by folks coming to him with seemingly-unbelievable problems.  Wailing ghosts keeping people up at night, a husband tempted from his marriage bed and left exhausted by the encounters, a hotel worker concerned about guests who check in but never check out—no concern is too outlandish for this investigator to look into.  If it turns out to be demonic mischief—which it usually does—he has a pet demon of his own to help him "resolve the situation."And of course, he has to keep that demon in top condition, which means providing his barely-tame incubus with a steady diet of infernally-hot sex.  It's a little awkward considering they have a depressed imp as a flatmate, but surely the three of them can figure out a way to ensure everyone's needs are met.  It's got to be easier than tracking down fugitive demons or figuring out futuristic coffee machines.





	1. Purrivate Investicator

**Author's Note:**

> _**Content includes:** _
> 
>   * _**Excessive cursing in multiple languages**_
>   * _**A contentious-but-ultimately-loving relationship between an immortal human and a bratty incubus**_
>   * _**Said couple keeping things spicy in the bedroom by negotiating and exploring a variety of kinks up to and including edgeplay that's only fun when one or more partners are immortal**_
>   * _**Dealing with a severely-depressed imp**_
>   * _**Demons who look like cats being assholes**_
>   * _**Demons who look like other things being worse**_
>   * _**Medically-necessary demonic threesomes**_
>   * _**Terrible cat puns**_
> 


It's raining, of course.  The forecast had predicted that the last few squalls of the monsoon season wouldn't darken Beijing's skies until later in the week, but that prediction had only held until the last bus of the day had pulled away from the curb without regard for the hopeful footsteps racing to gain access to the climate-controlled interior.  It would be easy to blame the lack of human driver for the lack of compassion shown to the damp and hungry would-be passenger, but even before the phasing out of living personnel in favor of self-piloting public transport, the city's busses had a reputation for ruthless efficiency.

Sighing at his luck, private investigator Jin Xiumin zips up his track jacket and tugs the brim of his snapback down to keep the worst of the weather out of his large mono-lidded eyes.  He knows his clothing isn't exactly traditional for his occupation—he has a vague idea his coat is supposed to be long and stylish and his hat is supposed to have a brim all the way around—but it is the traditional black, at least, and more importantly, it's comfortable and relatively inconspicuous.  

It does not, however, do a very good job at keeping the unexpected rain off the back of his neck.  At least the falling droplets of water are no longer acidic enough to burn skin and irritate eyes and lungs, thanks to the heavy industrial reforms of the '40s, but they're still cold and unpleasant and Xiumin mumbles self-condemning epithets in several languages as he sets off toward his antique oasis.  It's going to be a long, soggy walk, and there's going to be yelling at the end of it.

Forty miserable minutes later, Xiumin sighs again, this time with relief as he steps beneath the awning that fronts the ancient building that holds his office and his apartment.  It's a crumbling relic of the previous century, shoehorned in between starkly-modern structures on either side, but that makes Xiumin like it all the more.  The old-fashioned LED lights bathing the soaked sidewalk in silver and the tacky, out-dated glass-and-steel construction feel more like home to him than the perfectly-insulating newfangled composites and the carefully-color-balanced nanometer lighting that have transformed the face of the city where he's spent the last forty-seven years.

He stamps his feet to knock the worst of the wet off his clothes and removes his soaked-through hat to shake out his straight black hair, kept short on the sides and back but allowed to grow long enough on top to fall into his face a bit.  Gripping the back of his hat between his teeth, Xiumin uses both hands to comb the water out of his bangs, swiping his thumbs over angled brows and across broad cheekbones to erase the dislodged droplets from his face.  The haircut and the lack of fashion consciousness are the legacy of his former career a lifetime ago as Seoul's Chief Inspector—he lets the regulation style grow longer on top before he gets it cut these days, and now that he doesn't have to wear a uniform, he tends to default to athletic wear unless he has a reason to get fancy.

As he taps his wallet on the RFID reader that unlocks the plate glass doors leading to the black marble lobby, Xiumin notices he's not the only drenched and miserable creature huddled beneath the overhanging plasticized canvas.  Appearing equally as ancient and weather-worn as the building it's crouched in front of, a cream-colored cat lifts its head at the electromechanical click of the opening door.  Sapphire blue eyes peek at him pathetically from beneath flattened espresso-colored ears as the Siamese meows feebly at him from the scant dry patch of cement the awning affords.

"Bad time to be caught outside without thumbs, pal," Xiumin murmurs to the decrepit beast, holding the door wide so the pitiable creature can drag itself into the building.  Yet another sigh parts Xiumin's lips.  "It's been over a year, Taozi.  I know you miss him—I miss him, too.  But you really should start letting people feed you again.  You're breaking my heart."

The Siamese only meows weakly in response, but his concern for the feline distracts Xiumin enough that he's surprised when a three-and-a-half-kilogram weight lands squarely between his shoulder blades with a  _whump._   His ears are pierced by an unearthly yowl right before sharp teeth graze the back of his neck.

Seventy-four years of dealing with demons in general and this demon in particular have dulled Xiumin's startle response to a mere blink, but for the benefit of the terrifying predator pretending to sever his spinal cord, he plays along like the good little prey he is.

"Ow.  Help.  Stop.  Eek.  I'm dying," he intones without emotion as he staggers melodramatically across the lobby, spinning and shrugging his attempts to dislodge the caterwauling hellion clinging to his coat.  A strong sense of disapproval brushes his mind, and he laughs as he unlocks a biometrically-secured brass-and-frosted-glass door.  The glass is elegantly gilded with Xiumin's name and occupation in three languages, along with the phrase "Unusual Cases Welcome."

Of course, after all this time, it takes a lot for a case to truly be unusual for him, but he'd gone for that inscription rather than "Specializing in Weird Shit" because it seemed more professional.

Accompanied by his own personal pair of weird little shits, he enters the office, door swinging automatically shut behind him to re-lock with a clank.  After knuckling the switch that illuminates the tidy room, Xiumin reaches over his shoulder to scruff the creature giving him so much grief, holding the unrepentant beast up in front of him at eye level.

"Someone is ravenous today, I see," he comments to the baleful blood-amber eyes regarding him with scorn from an ebony feline face.  The creature's leathery black wings flutter in an effort to extract itself from Xiumin's grip, but the detective hangs on until he can drop the beast unceremoniously over the high-backed synth-leather sofa his clients anxiously perch on while telling him all about their problems.

The creature spreads legs, wings, and tail as it falls, landing tidily on four feline paws with a disgruntled yawp.  A friendlier noise makes Xiumin smile as a robotic vacuum plays the jaunty little tune that indicates the machine recognizes that the room is occupied and plans to go back to its docking station rather than make a nuisance of itself underfoot.

"Samtaro, continue," Xiumin commands, because he doesn't plan to be in the office for long. 

The cute little disc-shaped bot plays a happy song of confirmation before returning to its task, looking even more like its namesake thanks to the cartoon hamster face Xiumin had taped to the machine upon unboxing, in the traditional christening ritual performed every decade or so whenever the previous automatic cleaner died and was replaced.  Xiumin had always been amused by the way robo-vacs scurry around, looking for dust to eat like a hamster looks for seeds, and had been even more amused by the disgusted faces his flatmates had made when Xiumin combined the name of their first vacuum's manufacturer with the name of a popular manga from his youth. 

Xiumin had been thrilled when this current model had allowed the user to give it a custom identifier so it would only listen to commands meant for it instead of the many other voice-activated electronics people were surrounded with these days.  He'd promptly programmed the portmanteau into the machine's verbal protocols so that anyone would have to use it if they wanted to control the bot, having to try several times since _someone_  kept yelling in the background every time Xiumin attempted to record the name.

"At least Sammy is happy to see me," Xiumin chides the winged feline on his sofa, receiving an unrepentant glare in return.  

More glaring tracks Xiumin around the room as he toes off his trainers and hangs up his coat and hat, then unlocks the sturdy wooden door that leads from the office to the living area.  Padding through the tiled kitchenette and down the narrow hardwood hallway in his white cotton socks, he consigns them along with his soggy black jeans to the hamper in the cozy master bedroom.  The decrepit Siamese is waiting in the doorway to the tiny flat's tinier guest bedroom, preferring to be shut behind a relatively sound-proof door when it's likely the other two occupants of the flat are about to have noisy sex.

"Is there food?  There better be food," Xiumin asks once he's returned to the kitchen in only his fitted black t-shirt and heather gray boxer briefs.  Affirmation fills his mind, and he slumps in grateful relief.  He opens the fridge to reveal a plastic-wrapped plate of dumplings and a lidded tub of what looks to be hot-and-sour soup.

"Thank you, Chenny," he sings as he pops the soup into the fancy convection microwave that is his second-favorite kitchen appliance (after the much adored fancy coffee machine, of course).  Pushing the thirty-second increment button a few times, he unwraps the plate and starts eating the dumplings cold, too hungry to wait any longer.

The winged feline is indeed hungry, too; a fact which it displays in the traditional fashion of weaving dangerously between Xiumin's bare ankles as he walks to the antique wooden "breakfast" table that gets used for all their human meals (and some demonic ones, as well).  Except for the bat-like wings folded tightly against its sleek black sides and the silver hoops that pierce the bottom of the outer edge of its furry triangular ears, it could pass for any other starving domestic cat instead of the demonic familiar that is bound to Xiumin for the rest of his life.

The judgemental little beast hops up onto the chair opposite Xiumin, exposing the silver barbels piercing the top pair of its tiny nipples as it stands on its hind legs and braces both front paws against the well-polished tabletop.  It continues to glare at the human lounging in a sturdy bamboo chair, chewing happily on pork and cabbage and salty dough.

"Don't look at me like that," Xiumin chides between bites.  "Things took longer than I expected, and then I missed the bus."

More glaring.

"It wasn't supposed to rain until tomorrow," Xiumin offers.  "I didn't mean to get soaked, but you'll keep me from getting sick so I'm not sure what you're so grumpy about."

Dark copper eyes narrow.

Xiumin rolls his eyes.  "Look, once I'm full of the delicious food my perfect little familiar has provided me with, I'll let you scrub me down and warm me up in the bath.  Will that un-ruffle your fur?"

The silky black tail lashes in fury and the cat's open-mouthed protest changes mid-yowl into discernable Mandarin as the feline transforms into an attractive human.  Well, an attractive almost-human—the flattened triangular ears, lashing tail, and tightly-folded leathery wings are still in evidence as the former feline angrily tosses unruly black hair out of his face.  "You were supposed to wait until I could go with you, not sneak out behind my back and needlessly endanger yourself."  

Xiumin would scoff at his familiar's dramatics, but his mouth is full.  Instead, he holds up his free hand and makes a yapping-mouth motion, causing indignation to boil up the empathic link they share.

"What part of 'stop trying to die, you stupid squishy human' do you not understand?" the beautiful, furious demon demands to know, chiseled cheekbones and angular jaw adding to his imperious air.

"Probably the same part of 'let me live my own life like the capable, combat-trained adult I actually am' that _you_ don't understand," Xiumin shoots back as soon as he swallows his mouthful of dumpling.

"The collar doesn't make you invincible, you know," his familiar spits through lips that still carry a feline curve even in this form.  

"It might as well," Xiumin shrugs, feeling the links of said collar shifting against his skin as he does.  "Other demons can't even touch me."  He gets up to fetch his steaming soup from the microwave. 

"But humans can, and humans are vicious assholes," the winged catboy declares, straight black eyebrows drawn down over searing onyx eyes.  "I know from close, personal experience."

Xiumin ignores the meaningful glare directed his way in favor of thoroughly enjoying his first slurp of the soup.  Millennia of serving vicious human assholes has made his familiar quite the decent chef, and after over seven decades of close, personal experience, the demon knows just what this human likes.

Said demon pouts, gazing wetly through sinfully long lashes at the man across the table.  "What am I gonna do if you get stabbed by some lowlife when I'm not there to save you, Minseokkie?" the familiar whines, proving that he also knows just what pushes this human's buttons.

Xiumin closes his eyes in an effort to swallow his soup without choking.  Crisis averted, Xiumin gazes levelly at the aegyo-abuser.  The infernal creature holds the pout, going so far as to make his lip quiver and his eyes water.

Huffing in frustration, Xiumin pushes his chair back from the table a little.  "Oh, come here, Chen, you manipulative fiend."

Still pouting, the nude catboy shuffles around to his human's side, wings drooping pathetically.

"You're a menace," Xiumin informs him, tugging Chen down into his lap so he can start feeding the problematic beast while he finishes feeding himself.

"It's your fault," the menace responds, rubbing his bare ass on Xiumin's equally-bare thigh more than is strictly necessary to maintain his perch on the human's knee.  "You made me love you."

"I regret it every day," the human lies, knowing that his fondness for his familiar will be broadcast down the link like everything else he feels.

"I just bet you do," Chen smirks.  "Finish your soup, old man.  Then you can show me just how much you regret it."

"Old man, yourself," Xiumin scoffs at the creature who's existed for five millennia.  "I look damn good for a hundred and two."  Which is of course because his body hasn't aged since he was twenty-eight, thanks to his familiar's meddling ways.  Xiumin tightens his left arm around said familiar's narrow waist, proving the virility in his well-developed muscles as he gulps more soup.

"And who's responsible for those continuing good looks?" Chen asks expectantly, flexing his lean abs beneath Xiumin's forearm.

"Me."  Xiumin drains the rest of the soup, slowly licking the last drops off his full lower lip in a deliberate display.  "I made you love me."

"Uh-huh.  Which you apparently regret."  Chen crosses strong arms below pierced nipples, looking at Xiumin with his head tilted and his furry triangular ears cocked.

"Regret might be too strong of a word," Xiumin admits.  Stomach sated, he lets his wide feline eyes hungrily roam the deliciously-appealing nude figure in his lap.  "More like... frequently resent, maybe."

"Well, tough, Princeling.  This is your life—you've had plenty of time to learn to deal."  Chen turns so he's facing the human, straddling Xiumin's lap with one bare thigh on either side of the bamboo chair beneath them.  As he maneuvers to this more intimate position, his feline ears become curved black horns and his furry tail becomes leathery and spade-tipped.  Smirking and sinful, he leans in to set commanding lips against soup-flavored ones, licking soy and vinegar out of Xiumin's mouth with a long, agile tongue.

"If you admit it's  _my_  life, then why are you determined to shut your prince up in a tower and not let me live any of it?"  Xiumin nips at the demon's lower lip.

"You can live plenty of it, nice and safe in the lap of luxury, eating the delicious food I make for you, working out to stay hot for me, and playing virtual reality games with rude teenagers online when you get bored."  Chen's tone implies only an idiot would want anything else.  "If you're good, I'll take you for outings to enrich your little human brain.  There's a new exhibit at the art museum next week."  He starts sucking a line of hickeys from Xiumin's right ear down toward his clavicle, presumably to match the one he'd left two days ago on the left side of the human's neck.

"Or—and here's a novel thought that I've definitely not mentioned in the preceding decades—you could step down off your high demonic horse and allow the man you love to enjoy the agency that any other grown-ass adult is entitled to."  Xiumin tilts his head to allow the possessive creature better access to his neck, having lost the "it's unprofessional" excuse to avoid the temporary marks when he'd retired from the police department long ago.  Makeup gets better every year, and it's just easier to let the demon do his thing and invest in high-opacity concealer for when he needs to look smart for the public.

"If you didn't constantly make terrible, stupidly-dangerous decisions, I might feel better about letting you off leash," Chen counters, lips tickling against Xiumin's sensitive skin.

"Ah, but  _I'm_  the human—I hold  _your_  leash."  Xiumin's hands wrap around his familiar's neck briefly, then slide down to caress his strongly-tapered torso.

"Who wears the collar?" Chen laughs, running a finger beneath the thick gold apple-shaped links forming a wide, flat chain that rests just above Xiumin's collarbones.  The human fucking hates it, even though it's an attractive style and it keeps him safe.  It's a constant reminder that he pays for security with servitude, and that will always chafe.

"Who wears the cock piercing?"  Xiumin counters, flicking the thick silver barbel that runs vertically from the frenum to emerge through the broad upper surface of the head of Chen's dick.  The demon fucking hates it, complaining that a fucking incubus doesn't need pleasure-enhancing jewelry and also that it looks even more fucking ridiculous when he's a cat than the nipple piercings (which he also hates).  It's also a constant reminder that he's subject to a human's authority, and that will always chafe.

"I hate you so much for this," Chen growls, tilting his erection forward to leave a smear of pre-come on Xiumin's T-shirt.

Xiumin lifts a brow at the disrespect, but since Chen does all the laundry (and even irons his shirts) he doesn't complain too much about the familiar making more work for himself.  "I hate that after all these years of me not dying, you still don't trust me to continue the trend without your constant harassment and attempts to restrict my liberty."

"You're so sexy when you talk like a cop, Minseokkie," Chen purrs, nibbling at Xiumin's scowl until he relents and kisses the infuriating creature in his arms.

"Fuck you," Xiumin growls even as he responds to Chen's insistent lips.

"You could, but then you wouldn't get to feel your precious piercing," Chen sings with a smirk, teasing fingers working at the hem of Xiumin's shirt.  The only thing he likes about the apadravya piercing is that Xiumin lets the demon top him closer to two-thirds of the time, rather than the half-and-half ratio they tended to maintain before the human compelled him to get the stimulating jewelry to commemorate spending fifty years together.

"What do I care about a piercing when I get to fuck an incubus?" Xiumin counters, leaning forward a little so Chen can relieve him of the soiled shirt more easily.

"Then you should let me take it out," Chen whines, tugging the soft black fabric over Xiumin's head, leaving the short sleeves binding strong biceps below rounded delts.

"Aww, poor baby, life must be so hard for you, being able to go anywhere and do whatever you want with a metal rod through your dick."  Xiumin frees his muscular arms from the restricting sleeves, then wraps them around the demon he adores, pulling him tight and kissing the complaints away like the infuriating creature so often does to him.

"Neither of those things are true," Chen pants between breath-stealing kisses.  "I go where I'm told and do what I'm supposed to do."

"Why is it so hard for you to let me do the same?"  Xiumin asks, lifting espresso eyes to meet Chen's obsidian gaze.  "I worry about you, too, you know.  And it sucks to have the link hurt all the damn time while you're off playing Chenny the Demon Slayer."  The connection between their souls doesn't like to stretch too far or for too long, and Xiumin is getting pretty sick of the dull ache in his chest that seems to be his constant companion these days instead of his familiar.

"I hate it, too.  I miss you.  I miss solving cases with you.  Why can't you just wait 'til I'm around and then we can go shake down lowlifes or kill Dementors together?" 

 Xiumin rolls his eyes at Chen's pet name for the fear-eating pavorus demons that masquerade as ghosts or feral animals or rapists to drain their victims.  The incubus hadn't gotten much of a chance to see movies before Xiumin entered the picture (and the workaholic detective had been painfully behind on pop culture himself), so there had been many a movie marathon in their early years together.  The Harry Potter series had been one of Chen's favorites, in no small part because one of Harry's teachers turns into a cat.

"But you're never around, Chenny.  You're gone eighteen hours a day sometimes.  I'm not going to just stop taking cases until after we move."

"Please?" Chen ducks his chin and bats those beautiful lashes.

"No."

"Can I take the piercings out?"

"No."

"Then can I top?"

Xiumin narrows his eyes at the pouting creature in his arms.  He's such a classic negotiator, asking for the unfathomable, then the undesirable, before backing down to something that seems so reasonable, so easy, because human socialization makes people want to be able to agree, to give someone what they want.  Xiumin knows this, knows he's being blatantly manipulated, but he's only human, and he's stupidly in love. 

"Bathe your human like a good little familiar and we'll see," he says, and Chen's face lights up like the Beijing sky at Lunar New Year.

"We'll see" is one of Chen's favorite games.  The incubus will do his infernal best to make sure the human will be so desperate to come that he'll agree to whatever position or technique the incubus suggests just to finally get his rocks off.  It's Xiumin's role to resist, to hold out as long as he can, but frankly, the demon fucking  _cheats_. 

He uses his abyssal abilities to wind his human up, monitors the link between their souls to know just how close Xiumin is to orgasm, teases the human with hands and mouth, sensations and words.  He loves to murmur in Xiumin's sensitive ear about how whatever he wants to do to him will feel so good, loves to paint mental pictures of agonizing bliss, likes to create the illusion that the frail little human is at the mighty demon's mercy.  And exactly when Xiumin is about to come, Chen demands to be allowed to turn his sinful imagery into reality. 

If the incubus doesn't get the answer he's looking for, he ceases all stimulation, laughing as the human curses out his frustration.  It's sexual blackmail of the worst kind, but while Xiumin is achingly hard and fondly furious during all the teasing, the delayed gratification means it's like a fucking firehose when he finally comes.  The more intense the sex is for Xiumin, the better Chen feeds, so when he's not up for something more complicated but vanilla isn't going to cut it, the human often lets his familiar toy with him like this.

But "we'll see" doesn't always mean "yes, eventually."  Sometimes it turns out to mean "That's fun to think about but I'm not sure it would be fun to actually do," such as when Chen suggested inserting his (admittedly smaller-than-average) hand completely inside the human's ass.  Xiumin had found the idea exciting, loved feeling his demon fingering him open while describing how amazing it would feel if he kept going, if he continued stretching until his clever hand slid slowly inside.  He'd allowed the demon to edge him repeatedly with fingers against his prostate, refusing the entire fist (and therefore refusing his orgasm) a record dozen times before finally commanding (definitely not begging) the beast to just get his dick inside already.  After all that prostate play, Xiumin had eventually come so much that the lewd creature was still licking spend off his chest and belly when the human fell asleep.

Chen is a blatantly manipulative fiend, but he's also stupidly in love.  He'd never hurt Xiumin, would never take advantage of the human's hazy frustration to override actual limits.  Preferences, yes; all the fucking time, shamelessly and unrepentantly.  If it's only a matter of "I like this, but I like that better" and Chen has the opposite opinion, or if it's a matter of "that feels good but it's undignified or grosses me out," the demon enjoys befuddling his human with endorphins until he's only thinking with the glowing pleasure centers that Chen delights in lighting up.  But if the incubus actually wants to try something new (and he often does), he knows he has to convince Xiumin when he's awake, sober, and undistracted, possibly with visual aids to prove his point or pique the human's interest.  

Tonight though, they stick with the tried and true because Xiumin is low on patience, antsy with the need to remind them both who they belong to.  He really has missed his familiar over the last few months, and their nightly sessions have become less playful, more about reconnecting than about challenging each other or teasing, the link alive with reassurance instead of fond frustration.  Tonight Xiumin only lets Chen edge him twice in the shower before they're in bed and he's riding the demon's cock, topping while being topped, their link glowing with ownership and domination and deep-seated desire from both sides.

He's grinding his ass against Chen's hips, taking the demon's cock way too deep for the controversial jewelry to be doing much for him besides adding to the sensation of satisfying fullness.  It still adds to the wearer's sensation, though, dragging bits and pieces of expletives past Chen's serifed lips, foul words spelled out in musical vowels.  Mandarin has been their language for almost fifty years, but Xiumin still isn't sure that his familiar hasn't somehow managed to lie to him about the expression that literally translates as "cow vagina" meaning "fucking awesome."  At least he's long since stopped laughing out loud whenever he manages to bring the obscenity to his familiar's tongue.

The demon's lubed hands make a nice slippery tunnel for Xiumin to fuck into as he sits astride Chen and rolls his body, and it also ensures that when the human climaxes, panting several expletives of his own, his come pulses over the demon's chest where it's easy for the beast to slurp it up with eager fingers and inhuman tongue once the human is spent.  Chen's orgasm comes shortly after tasting his human's mess, the demon snarling and grabbing Xiumin's hips with slick hands as he pours himself deep inside.

As always happens whenever they're skin-to-skin and climax within minutes of each other, Xiumin feels the accumulated sexual energy drain away from him to feed his ravenous incubus, taking some of his vitality with it.  It's possible for such a demon to drain too much of a human's energy, leaving them sickly, or even to take it all, leaving them dead.  But Chen loves Xiumin and considers it his primary mission to keep him strong and healthy, so he never takes more than can be fully restored by a good night's sleep.

"Let Taozi out of the bedroom," Xiumin reminds his familiar as he flops to the side, lax and fucked out and placid as his newly-energized familiar cleans them both up.

When Chen returns he's once again wearing his feline ears and fuzzy tail along with a frown and a furrowed brow.  "I think you should feed him," the demon grudgingly admits as he carefully folds his wings to be able to slide comfortably into bed beside his human.  "He was just laying there on the floor, staring at nothing."

"I think I'm dreaming already.  You want me to do what, now?"  Xiumin turns half a smile toward his jealous familiar.  

He gets a scowl in return.  "I hate sharing you, but he fucking _needs_  to be fed.  You know I can't, or I would.  No other human is going to do it when he looks two labored breaths away from death.  If he even tries to feed from a stranger, he's more likely to get a merciful brick to the head, which wouldn't kill him any more than his definitely-not-broken-heart-because-demons-don't-get-those is going to do, but it certainly won't improve his praisability."

Xiumin snorts, but it's just to cover his own deep sadness.  It really sucks to outlive everyone you know, even those younger than you, and the last three decades have been especially rough as his contemporaries passed away one by one.  Retired police detective Oh Sehun was the last one to go at a remarkable ninety-seven, and as soon as Chen had found out—through what Xiumin calls ASS, the Abyssal Signal System, the same SMS-based method by which Chen's elimination targets are identified and through which he reports his success—the two of them had hopped on a plane to Seoul to fetch the suddenly-untethered imp.

Taozi had already abandoned his human form by the time they'd found him in the apartment he had shared with the human who'd been his boyfriend for almost three quarters of a century.  Through kitty vocalizations understandable to Xiumin's feline-inclined familiar, Taozi had assured them he was fine at first, because he's a tough demon.  While he'd enjoyed being with Sehun enough to alter his own appearance to match his lover's aging, he kept insisting that while he knew Sehun had loved him deeply, he'd never been able to properly return the human's feelings—he had just faked it so the human would allow him to stay and would keep feeding him so well. 

But he'd stopped eating physical food entirely over the next several months, something that wouldn't actually kill him but that certainly made him look on the brink of death after more than a year of self-starvation.  He'd also avoided feeding on the admiration that imps need to flourish, had declined when Chen offered to send him painlessly back to the abyss, had pretty much shunned interaction of any kind with anyone, especially people in love.  This means he spends his days occupying the shrubbery in front of their building, adding to the creepy ambiance that one might expect to find when visiting a private investigator that specializes in ~~weird shit~~ unusual cases.

"I'm going to fix all of our problems at once, because I'm the best fucking familiar there ever was," Chen suddenly declares, snuggling close to his human.

Xiumin smiles sleepily.  "You're at least the familiar best at fucking," he offers, waiting for the demon to outline his surely-diabolical plan like the supervillain he could so easily be.

"I don't like you going off alone.  You don't like playing it safe.  Taozi doesn't have a reason to live, but doesn't actually want to die."

Xiumin can see where this is going already.  "Oh, no.  I'm not resuscitating him just for you to sic him on me as a babysitter."

"Not a babysitter, Minseokkie," Chen responds, still preferring to use this pet form of the human's birth name when they're out of earshot of mere mortals.  "Think of him more like an apprentice or a bodyguard—what do the mob call their thugs?  An enforcer.  You sally forth laying down the law like always, and when I can't be your backup, you'll have backup backup."

Xiumin presses his lips together, gazing up at the darkness-obscured ceiling.  "I can't touch him, though, remember?"  The golden links around his neck that protect him from all other demons aside from his own familiar don't make exceptions for friends.

"Well, you can either manage without—or you can m..." the demon's words trail off into unintelligible mumbles.

"What was that?"

"Nevermind.  I can pet him for you while you praise him.  And once he's well, he just has to follow you around and look scary.  You don't need to touch him for that."

Xiumin lets the silence stretch out.  He's confident in his continuously-practiced repertoire of law-enforcement taekwondo to help him deal with any uncooperative humans, and his silver-plated switchblade and his magical Slave Collar of Demon Electrocution to deal with uncooperative non-humans, but he doesn't exactly _like_ going out on his own after having Chen in his pocket for so long. 

Sure, Chen has always had to pop away for at least a few hours after the human is asleep to take care of one or more "little problems" for the Temptress—the succubus queen that had provided Xiumin's nifty necklace in return for Chen's ongoing demon-slaying services, among other infernal agreements—but lately the pressure has been on to finish up her extensive hit list for Beijing so they can move on to the next city on their eternal itinerary.  These days, Chen is almost always busy with abyssal business, not just at night, but practically around the clock.  He still manages to prioritize his human's physical needs, keeping him well-fed and rested and healthy (if not as safe as the demon would like), but Xiumin can't remember the last time he and his familiar—his husband, technically, as of a courthouse ceremony in Korea sixty-odd years ago—had actually just sat and enjoyed each other's company.

Whereas Taozi barely even moves anymore.

"I'll do it for Taozi," Xiumin informs his familiar.  "I'll heal him up and take him around with me—maybe he'll lose that dead look in his eyes if he has a purpose again."

Chen's satisfaction and relief bounce across the link and make the ends of the smile pressed against Xiumin's shoulder curl up even more.  "My human is so selfless.  Won't do things to protect himself, but will agree to be protected as a favor to the one doing the protecting.  How did I get such a stupid human?  Things like this are why I'm constantly surprised I've been able to keep you alive this long, and worry so much about you when I'm not by your side."

Xiumin harrumphs, but he allows his familiar to nuzzle into his newly-marred neck and slide a leathery wing across his bare body.  "How come your flattery is so insulting?" he asks sleepily, his mind succumbing to the temporary exhaustion that feeding his incubus always elicits.  "Things like this are why I'd rather go out alone."

The link betrays his drowsy declaration to be a lie. 

"I'll hurry up, Minseokkie," Chen murmurs.  "I'll work as fast as I can so I can get back to you as soon as possible."

"Don't overwork yourself to the point you make dumb mistakes," Xiumin mumbles.  "Don't wanna hafta get the summoning books out again.  I put 'em in the very back of the closet and they're blocked by a bunch of other stuff."

Chen's chuckle caresses as much as the fingers on Xiumin's hip.  "I'll be careful," he promises as the human drifts off.

 

Unsurprisingly, Chen is gone when Xiumin wakes up.  This means that instead of starting his morning naked in bed being brought perfect coffee made just the way he likes it by his own personal sexy catboy barista, Xiumin's wearing mismatched sweats in his kitchen, cursing his way through convincing the incredibly complicated machine to give him drinkable coffee at all. 

Xiumin practically worships the shining titanium behemoth that takes up a good meter of their meager counter space.  It's a brilliant combination of gourmet technique and modern technology, and beneath Chen's clever fingers it performs like the finest musical instrument.

In Xiumin's hands, it's a bent kazoo.

"Just fucking give me the damn beans back, then!" Xiumin demands of the contrary machine when it chirps a cheerful error melody for the sixth time.  "I'll fucking chew them myself."

"Well, this is an incredibly fortuitous time for me to pop in," an annoyingly-familiar voice declares.

"Fuck off, Lu," Xiumin growls.  "I am so not in the mood for your flirty bullshit."

"But you will be after I make you coffee," Lu sings through a smirk, gesturing for Xiumin to surrender and go sit at the table.

Xiumin glares at the invading demon for a long moment, because he knows exactly why the infuriating creature wants to help him.  The impossibly-beautiful demon looks down at him with big, innocent eyes peeking coyly from beneath perfectly-fluffy blond bangs, pouty lips drawn into a moue.  

"Chen's going to fucking hate this," Xiumin grumbles, but he goes and sits like the defeated, caffeine-deprived wretch he is without the familiar that spoils him so much.

"Then Chen should be here taking care of his precious husband," Lu says, pushing a sequence of buttons that makes the machine stop chirping and start whirring gently as it obediently grinds the coffee beans Xiumin had fed it twenty minutes ago.

Xiumin closes his eyes and tries to resist, but based on the demon's lusty moan, the infernal creature is enjoying the delicious energy he's gaining from the human's uncontrollable wish that he were able to operate the machine so well himself.  Human envy is what an invidius like Lu feeds on, and while it doesn't cost his victims anything physically, Xiumin always feels like the smirking creature is directly devouring his dignity.

"You're basically a rapist, you know."  Xiumin glares at the ecstatic fiend.  "You could at least fucking ask first—it's fucking _rude_ to just waltz in here and cuckold my perfect wife.  He fucking  _does_  take care of me and he already feels fucking guilty about being gone.  You  _know_  he fucking hates it when you feed from me and you always fucking do it anyway.  Now I'm going to have to deal with his jealousy and bruised ego and that means I'm going to have to buy more fucking concealer because he'll fucking pout until I'm covered in fucking bite marks from head to fucking toe—oh."

Xiumin's tirade is cut off by the steaming mug of aromatic coffee the smugly-satisfied invidius plunks onto the polished wood in front of him. 

"You knew what was going to happen and you went and sat down anyway," Lu chides.  "If you didn't want me to feed, you should have just re-heated the coffee I know Chen left in the fridge for you."

"It kills all the flavor to microwave it, and it takes too long to heat it up gently on the stove," Xiumin complains as he stares at the rich dark liquid in front of him, torn in two by the choice to either chug the beverage that gives him life or throw the steaming fluid in Lu's too-beautiful face.

In the end, he does neither.  He just sits and looks at the mug Chen gave him for his hundredth birthday, a sky-blue one printed in white with the English phrase, "Living the Americano Dream."  Xiumin had been so pleased that after whining about his terrible old-man humor for years, his familiar had actually given him something with a pun on it.

There is a serious problem with Xiumin's life if he's scowling at a pun-adorned mug of freshly-brewed coffee instead of happily wrapping his hands and lips around it.

More than likely triggered by Xiumin's violent displeasure, his phone vibrates against his abdomen.  He pulls the device from the kangaroo pocket of his sweatshirt, thumbing the screen to accept the call and put it on speaker without looking at the ID.  His familiar doesn't fret every time the human is frustrated or annoyed (that being the unfortunate reality of investigating shit all by yourself after knowing the luxury of being supported by a cracking team), but evidently being un-caffeinated, foiled by a machine, and harassed by a shamelessly opportunistic invidius pushed enough peevishness down the link to warrant a welfare check.

"Are you breaking shit or am I going to need to hide a body for you, Minseokkie?" Chen's amused voice fills the kitchen to echo the fond concern Xiumin feels through the link.  

"Neither—if I manage to kill my tormentor, Sammy will take care of it." Xiumin lifts a threatening brow at the doe-eyed demon who smiles sweetly at him as he cleans the coffee machine.  "Lu made me feed him by making me coffee."

A beat of silence accompanies the flare of jealousy that sizzles over the link, but it's quickly suppressed.  "Well, at least you got coffee out of the ordeal."

"Energy for energy, right, JD?" Lu calls from the counter.

Another pause and possessive zing.  "Is it at least good coffee, Minseokkie?"

Xiumin sips obligingly.  "Not bad," he reports.  "But yours is better."

Since the link makes it impossible for them to successfully lie to each other, even to spare feelings, Chen knows the evaluation is genuine.  Smug pride suffuses the link in response.  

"Well, that's alright, then, I guess.  But why the fuck is Lu there?"

"Yeah, why the fuck are you here, Lu?" Xiumin asks around another sip, also wondering why they'd never removed the demon's access privileges from their door lock. 

Lu had stayed with them for a while when they'd first arrived in Beijing to help them get settled in their new home.  He was helpful then, Xiumin will admit, but that period of cohabitation had made the invidius even more forward, flirty, and obnoxious than he'd been before they'd lived together.

"Do I need a reason to visit my favorite human?" the demon asks, feigning offense.

"Yes," Xiumin states in synchronization with Chen's voice over the phone.

"Well, pardon my intrusion and timely rescue of your coffee machine from your extremely grumpy husband, JD," Lu snarks, using an old nickname from when he and Chen worked together centuries ago.  "I think the more important question is, why the fuck are you  _not_  here?"

"I'm on my way to work," Chen defends.  "Your queen gives me a fuckton of shit to do."

"She's your queen, too," Lu reminds him.  "Are you on a train?"

"Well, it seems unwise to whip my wings out in public in broad daylight unless I go full bird, and it's a little hard to carry a wakizashi with bird feet when it would fucking weigh more than I would, unless I chose a big-ass fucking bird like an eagle or something in which case I think people might fucking notice a raptor carrying a fucking sword, and even if I flew high enough that people would just think I was holding a snake or something, there's the small personal preference I have to stroll casually up to my target, whip my sword out from under my clothing, do the deed, and saunter off rather than charge at them stark fucking naked waving both my swords in the breeze—fucking  _yes_  I'm on a train, you fucking moron."

"Rude."  Lu sticks his tongue out at the phone despite the fact that it's not a video call.  "What I  _meant_  was, you asshole, if you're doing a job far enough away that you have to take a train, why the fuck didn't you take your human with you?"

"Uh, because I'm generally against putting him in danger?" Chen answers like it's obvious.

"Uh, so you fucking left him all alone?" Lu counters like it's obviously unwise.

"He's not alone," Chen scoffs.

Lu looks around exaggeratedly.  "What, do you have invisible friends now?"

"Taozi's there."

Lu cocks his head, eyes darting around to make sure he didn't overlook someone standing in a corner or something.  "Who?"

"He's an imp, but he's tall and scary-looking and knows wushu."  

Lu's darting eyes finally flick through the open door into the office and land on the dull-eyed, barely-breathing feline sprawled flat on the rug near the sofa.  "Wait, does he mean  _that?_ "  His perfect features distort cartoonishly as he gives Xiumin an incredulous look.

"He's a little under the weather at the moment," Xiumin sheepishly explains as Lu marches over to the frail body on the floor.  He nudges the Siamese with his designer shoe.

Taozi doesn't even blink.

"Yeah, I'm really fucking terrified of this alleged wushu imp, JD."

"The point is that Minseokkie has company," Chen defends.  "He's a badass ex-cop who can take care of himself."

Mug raised to his lips, Xiumin suppresses a snort.  So  _now_  his familiar is willing to admit he's a capable adult.

"Unless he needs to make himself a cup of coffee," Lu retorts.

Okay, maybe not  _completely_  capable.

"He knows how to use the machine perfectly well—he's just lethally impatient in the morning and insists on pushing all the buttons at once and confusing it.  He knows there's coffee for him in the fridge, but if he insists on hot and fresh, he could drag himself to the cafe on the corner and _buy_ himself a cup of coffee, or he could use the app I put on his phone to have a drone _bring_ him a cup of coffee," Chen says, like those options are acceptable replacements for the perfect earthy ambrosia the incubus draws forth from their fabulous fancy machine.  "But while discussing my beloved husband's inability to cope with anything more difficult than dressing himself before he's properly caffeinated is always amusing, I'm going to ask you one more time:  Why the fuck are you there?"

"Because we have a case for our highly-skilled pet detective," Lu says.  

With the coffee seeping into his system, Xiumin shifts from sullen to curious at the demon's words.  Of course, this makes the invidius moan with delight, feeding from the human again now that he wants something the demon has.

"Sorry," Xiumin apologizes to his familiar.

A sigh crosses the line.  "I know you're not doing it on purpose."

"I would never," Xiumin assures him.

"I know," Chen softly says again.  Then he raises his voice.  "Hey, fucknugget, quit poaching another demon's food and fucking spit the details already."

"It's not like my feeding prevents you from doing so," Lu retorts.  "I'm not damaging your precious morsel in any way."

"You're damaging my patience," Chen snarls.  

"Don't make me touch you," Xiumin adds, wiggling his demon-electrifying fingers in the direction of the invidius.

Lu gapes at Xiumin, seeming genuinely offended for once.  "And after I made you coffee," he tsks.

"You made me coffee specifically so you could feed, so don't pretend you did me a favor," Xiumin shoots back.  "If you have an actual case for me, let's go into the office and discuss it.  If you're just here to annoy Chen by feeding from me without permission, then you can fuck right off."

"JD has been a terrible influence on you, Inspector Minseokkie," Lu observes with a pout.  "You used to be much more polite."

"You used to be much more tolerable," Xiumin retorts before picking up his phone.  "Hang up so you can focus and stay safe, Chenny.  I can verbally abuse our ex-flatmate well enough on my own now that he foolishly gave me caffeine."

"Okay, Minseokkie," Chen chuckles.  "See you tonight."

Xiumin tucks his phone back into his kangaroo pocket before leading the way to his office, clutching the coffee mug in an entirely dignified, non-life-dependent manner.

Lu follows, stepping over Taozi's motionless body and reclining on the couch in a needlessly-seductive way.  "This case is really upsetting," he pouts.  "I might need someone to comfort me."

"You just got butthurt when I threatened to zap you," Xiumin points out.  "How the fuck do you think you're going to seduce me?"

"It's called  _flirting_ , Inspector Minseokkie," Lu narrows his eyes.  "It's supposed to be harmless fun."

"Or we could just behave professionally," Xiumin says, leaning back in his swivel chair to cross his sweatpant-covered legs over the perfectly-clean surface of his old-fashioned antique cherry desk.

Lu lifts an eyebrow at the display, snorting his amusement.  "I see you're good at that."

"The best," Xiumin asserts, grabbing a tablet from a drawer and touching the screen to wake it up.  "Now, what exactly do 'we' need my professional help with?"

Lu blinks those big, doe-like eyes at him.  "It seems like our Death Dealer isn't the only one reducing the demon count in Beijing," he says, signature smirk eerily absent.  

"Ah," Xiumin says.  "The Dark Lady has her own pet assassin now?  Payback time, is it?"

The invidius shakes his head.  "She says not.  She could be lying, but payback seems unlikely—she just gates her people back through somewhere else, anyway.  It gives us time to take over territory she's claimed, but really JD is an irritant to her rather than a scourge.  And besides, the disappeared demons are from all factions—the attacks seem to be mostly random."

Xiumin dutifully taps details into his tablet.  "Can't you just gate your people back through, too?"

"That's the thing," Lu says, leaning forward.  "The missing demons don't end up back in the abyss."

Xiumin looks up, brushing his too-long bangs out of his face like that'll help him to see the sense in the demon's words.  "I thought that was how it works—demons get dusted here, they end up back there."

"That is the usual order of things, yes.  So either someone has a dungeon full of abducted demons somewhere," Lu says.  "Or someone has figured out how to slay demons on the mortal plane and end them for good."


	2. Chinese Whiskers

As soon as the horrifying words leave Lu's perfectly pouty lips, Xiumin's hand is back in his kangaroo pocket, calling his familiar via muscle memory alone.

"Minseokkie," Chen starts, but Xiumin cuts him off.

"Get your ass back here as soon as possible."

"You know I'll hurry, but it'll still probably be after dark—"

"Now," Xiumin says.  "Come back  _now_."

A pause.  "Wow, Minseokkie, you're so terrified the link makes me wanna puke.  Is Lu still there?  Are you in danger?"

Xiumin is fighting his own nausea, so his words are clipped.  " _You're_  in danger, asshole.  Get the fuck home."

"Minseokkie, I'll be really careful, but I have work to do—"

"Not anyfuckingmore.  You're mine before you're hers, and your master orders you to get the fuck back here.  Fucking  _fly._ "

Another beat of silence.  "Okay.  I'm on my way."

Cutting the call, Xiumin lifts his eyes back to the demon lounging on his synth-leather sofa.  "Tell me everything you know," he commands.

"Wow," Lu breathes, eyes half-closed in pleasure, lips parted in awe.  "And I thought JD was scary when  _you_  were threatened."

"Fucking  _talk_ , Lu," Xiumin spits, enraged that after dropping this bombshell, the invidius is just fucking feeding from his desire for information.

"I am talking—"

"About useful shit, asswipe.  For once in your existence, be fucking helpful instead of being a fucking leech."

"So rude, Inspector Minseokkie," Lu chides.  "I'm trying to help you, and you—"

"Make yourself useful or get the fuck out," Xiumin snaps, absolutely done.  

But Lu seems almost intoxicated, only giggling in response.

Xiumin pulls his legs off the surface of his desk and sets down the tablet in his hands in favor of scrubbing them over his face and through his hair.  He's done more with less.  Getting information is his fucking job, and it's almost never easy.  It'll go quicker with help, though, and even though the link is telling him Chen is moving toward him quickly, he's still very far away.  It'll probably take him hours to get home, and Xiumin isn't going to wait that long to act.

His gaze flicks to the floor, where the robo-vac is bumping confusedly against an unmoving Taozi, chirping softy in surprise at the unexpected obstacle in the middle of its cleaning path.

"Samtaro, dock," Xiumin commands, and the peppy little bot sings a cheery acknowledgement before trundling away.  At least  _someone_  obeys without arguing around here.

Xiumin rounds the desk to crouch beside the husk of a cat.  "Taozi," he calls softly.  "I need your help.  I know you want to be miserable forever, but DaeDae is in danger.  I can't fucking lose him, Taozi—I know you're probably super bitter that he got to keep his human when you didn't, so I understand if you don't want to help, but I'm still going to ask.  I'm still going to force-feed you, at least until you can communicate.  And if you don't want to help, I'll have DaeDae send you back to the abyss so I won't have to worry about you anymore."

The cat offers no response.  Xiumin isn't even sure it's breathing, except it hasn't turned to dust so it must still be alive.

"I'm sorry if this isn't what you want," Xiumin offers, then closes his eyes to better picture Taozi whole and handsome rather than decrepit and dying.  "I think it was your eyes that caught my attention first," he begins.  "They're so big and blue and beautiful when you're a cat, just like sparkling sapphires, they make you look really regal and yet your little kitty face is so cute."

"What are you doing?" Lu's voice interrupts, in a tone that says he knows exactly what Xiumin is doing and is baffled as to why.

"I'm the fucking town bicycle today," Xiumin snaps.  "Fucking shut up and let me whore myself."

"What happened to not wanting to cuckold your perfect wife?"

"Chenny asked me to do this," Xiumin says.  "He feels responsible, I think."

Lu just gapes, so Xiumin closes his eyes and resumes, talking about how long and sensitive Taozi's whiskers are, how the deep espresso of his velvety ears and adorable nose and tidy little paws and slinky tail contrasts so nicely with his creamy fur, how soft his fur is, how Xiumin wishes he could bury his face in it without shocking the imp.

"Do you think I'm going to give you info if you feed him in front of me to make  _me_  envious instead?" Lu asks.

"No.  I'm feeding him because he fucking needs it and we need him.  And I don't need to beg you for what you'll give me eventually, anyway."

"Why exactly do you think I'll do that?"

"Because you were sent here to get me to take the case.  You'll have to answer to your queen if you don't.  And more importantly, I'm going to tell Chen I want the information you have, and he'll either go over your head to get it, which probably won't please your mistress, or—and this is my personal hope—he'll decide to get it directly from you.  I'm sure one of his many evil summoners had him torture people for information before.  He's probably really good at it."  Xiumin smiles brightly at the invidius.

Lu looks vaguely sick.  "Okay, okay, fucking  _hell_  you two are fucking  _vicious_  about each other," the invidius mutters.  "No fucking sense of humor  _at all_."

"I know love and devotion is a foreign concept for you demons.  I don't expect you to understand," Xiumin says calmly.  "I just expect you to fucking help or get the fuck out of my way." 

"So fucking cold.  You taste terrible now, anyway—what do you want to know?"

"The tablet's on the desk—fill out everything you can on the interview form while I try to force-feed this sad sack of imp."

Xiumin sees Lu move to grab the tablet but otherwise ignores the invidius as he continues to praise Taozi, wishing he could stroke him while doing so, doing his best to caress with words instead.  Chen had once said it's his sincerity that makes his praise so filling for the imp more than the words he uses so he tries to pour his very real feelings of affection and admiration into the inane compliments his lips are shaping.  

He can see Taozi's breathing pick up to a visible level but otherwise there's no obvious sign that anything Xiumin is saying is having any effect. Still, he presses on, lying on the floor beside the decrepit creature and staring at the ceiling.  He can only be so sincere about a cat, though, so Xiumin pulls from the past, remembering bits and pieces of the time they'd spent in Seoul together. 

"Remember when you saved those little girls?  I didn't think you meant to do it at the time, but looking back now, I'm convinced you did.  I think you were brave and selfless, trying to help them even though you might have gotten punished really badly if you'd been caught.  I think you're a really bad demon, and I mean that in a good way.  I think you have a very un-demon-like habit of actually caring about humans.  It's really endearing."

A tiny, almost-inaudible meow passes Taozi's otherwise-immobile lips, so quietly Xiumin is sure he'd have missed it if his ear weren't thirty centimeters from the creature's face.

"It _is_ endearing.  Everyone who meets you adores you, Taozi.  You are straight-up adorable.  No wonder Sehun loved you so much."

Another pained noise emerges from the cat, much louder, and Xiumin winces.  Perhaps he shouldn't have brought up the imp's lost boyfriend, but it had gotten a strong reaction, and that seems significant.  Maybe his praise has had little effect so far because the imp isn't really listening.  Well, he'll definitely keep the demon's attention by poking at the wound, and if he can slip some praise in alongside the pain, well, it'll be just like a therapist or something, right?

"He did, Taozi.  You two were good together.  You took such good care of him—I'm sure you had no small part in his remarkable lifespan.  He always smiled so much whenever you were around—until you showed up, I wasn't sure that boy even knew  _how_  to smile.  He became much more confident after you moved in.  I bet you praised him back, didn't you?  I'm sure you told him how great he was all the time."

Another vocal complaint, but Xiumin is smiling now.

"Don't give me that tsundere bullshit.  You're gonna try to tell me you only complimented him so he'd do it back, that it was shamelessly self-serving, but I don't buy it.  I bet you were a sucker for his shy little smile, and I bet you did anything you could think of to make him feel special just so you could see it."

A feline mumble makes Xiumin feel sure he's on the right track.

"I'm so glad he had you, Taozi.  I'm so glad you made each other happy.  Do you remember that panda bento box you gave him?  He fucking  _loved_  that thing—the other guys would give him shit about it being super-cutesy but he was never embarrassed about it.  He was proud that you'd given him something, proud that you thought about him when you saw something cute, happy to accept the teasing because it made him remember how much you liked him.  Fuck, he was so stupid in love with you from the very beginning."

Taozi's yowl sounds a lot like a sob, and it brings tears to Xiumin's own eyes.

"Yeah, I feel that.  It fucking sucks that people die.  It fucking sucks to be left behind again and again, doesn't it, TaoTao?  But DaeDae and I won't leave you, will we?  We'd never abandon you.  Only now some asshole is making demons disappear, and if he makes DaeDae disappear then I'll be mortal again, and as much as I fought against eternal life at first I'm not done yet, Tao-baby.  I have more good to do, and I want to do it with my Chenny by my side.  I know you can help us—you're fucking ferocious when you want to be, and you were so good at helping Chen sneak around in that warehouse—you can help us find this asshole and see what he wants."

A strange sort of accusatory mrow escapes the prone form of the cat beside him, and Xiumin laughs.

"Yeah, I know—irony being a pain in my ass is the theme of my life.  I know I want fewer demons around.  But I'm rather attached to one or two of them—"

"Hey!"  Lu reminds Xiumin that he exists.

"Fiiine, two or three of them, and you've always offered to help me before.  You're so generous with your time and your abilities.  You're so gentle with us humans, even the tiny kid ones that can't buy you any Gucci."

A feline snort.

"Yeah, and little fuzzy dogs, too!  Would you like a little fuzzy dog?  I'd buy you a little dog if that would please you.  You know Chenny won't let me feed you in non-emergency situations, but I could buy you shit.  I have more than enough cash."

Evidently living modestly for a long-ass time means money builds up a lot of interest, especially when it's run through various diversified stocks and bonds that Xiumin doesn't claim to understand but that the Temptress's pet avarus demon that is now Xiumin's accountant multiplies on his behalf for the low, low fee of half his dividends.  It's extortion, plain and simple, but Xiumin still has plenty of cash and he'd never be able to manage it better himself or find another accountant that wouldn't fucking notice when he never fucking died, so, Xiumin lets himself be manipulated by yet another fucking demon because at this point why the fuck not?

Taozi doesn't respond to this offer, and Xiumin is surprised before he realizes that of course a dog would just die eventually, and Taozi seems to have had enough of getting attached to things that would just abandon him in the end.

"Okay, well, what about a robo-dog?  They have really realistic ones now, and that's not going to piss in here or shed all over the fucking place like you and Chenny do just to annoy me, so even better as far as I'm concerned."

Another feline snort.

"You could buy it designer dog clothes and it would never ruin them."

Taozi harrumphs weakly.

"Oh, right, I'm supposed to be feeding you, not teasing you.  Uh, let's see.  Well, I've always admired your dress sense.  The only fashion rule I know is when in doubt, go with black, so when I spend all my money on you, make sure you're actually present so you can make sure I spend it on the good shit.  You always know what looks good on you—maybe you can help me out, sometime.  Chenny just shakes his head when I try to fashion by myself."

Xiumin isn't sure how long he lays there on the floor listing things he admires about the imp while trying to build a pleasant image of the future in Rao's mind, but it's long enough that he really appreciates the glass of water Lu brings over to soothe his raspy throat.  And it's long enough that he jumps in surprise when the door bangs open and Chen strides in, homicide boiling in the air around him.

"What the fuck did you do to him?" Chen's voice demands, and Xiumin can hear the wakizashi sing out of its sheath.

"Nothing!" Lu yelps.

Xiumin sits up to prove his health.  "I'm fine, I was just chilling with Taozi."  His raspy voice renders him rather unconvincing.

"You're  _not_  fine, you've been a fucking mess since this poacher violated the sanctity of our home."  Chen's face is a mask of blank rage as he strips off his long black coat and unzips his pants.

Xiumin snorts.  "Your speech gets so old-timey and uppity when you're upset, ChenChen," he teases.  "Put the sword away and come pet Taozi for me."

"I'm not here to pet imps, I'm here because someone freaked out and pulled rank and I fucking want to know why right fucking now."  The rest of Chen's clothing follows the coat to the floor and then he's in Xiumin's space, pulling him up off the floor to press him close with arms and wings and glare at Lu over his shoulder.

Xiumin allows himself an indulgent moment of holding Chen's warm body and inhaling his scent, something a bit like cinnamon these days thanks to the bodywash Xiumin makes him use when he's man-shaped rather than just licking himself when he's cat-shaped.

"You're here and you're fine, so I'm fine.  But you're not going hunting any more until we figure out what the fuck is going on with disappearing demons." 

"Demons don't just disappear," Chen scoffs.

"They do now, apparently," Xiumin answers. 

He pushes Chen away and turns to Lu, taking the tablet from the sofa as the invidius just smirks at the naked winged catboy standing stiffly in the middle of the room, tail lashing irately behind him and ears flattened to disappear beneath tousled ebony locks.  Xiumin reads over the information Lu entered, face pulling into a frown until the invidius snorts.

"Still a nudist, I see, JD."

"Still an asshole, I see, Ru."

"Boys, please claw each other's eyes out some other time."  His eyebrows shoot up as he reads.  "Is this really true?  Six hundred missing demons?"

"We think.  We can only count those who belong to factions that are willing to talk to us and admit they've misplaced a few members.  There could easily be more."

Chen stalks over and takes the tablet from Xiumin's hand, scanning through the collected information.  "So why the fuck am I here instead of taking out my targets?"

"Because I refuse to let you out of my sight until I'm reasonably sure that your name won't be the next on the MIA list."

Chen scoffs.  "I'll be fine.  I don't lose."

"I have a recurring nightmare that begs to fucking differ, and don't give me that 'draw' bullshit—it's not going to matter if I can't get you back."

"So, what—I'm grounded until Daddy trusts me not to wreck the car again?  Is this all because I wanted you to stop taking cases without me?"

Xiumin gapes at him.  "Oh, fuck you, pal.  Fuck you right in the eye.  You fucking  _know_  how I feel right now, and petty revenge is nowhere on the menu."

Chen is instantly contrite.  "Okay.  Okay—I get it.  You're worried about me because you love me.  But whoever or whatever is responsible for these missing demons has nothing to do with my excursions for the Temptress.  I'm careful, and I'm good at what I do—you don't need to worry about me."

Xiumin just crosses his arms over his chest and stares levelly at his familiar.  "I say the same fucking thing to you when I go out alone—does it make you feel any better?"

Chen presses his lips together.  "Fine.  I'll take a few days off and help you with this case, and you don't take any more cases until we move."

"How about no?  I'm not going to turn away someone that needs my help."  

Chen's face darkens, but before the fury boiling across the link comes out his familiar's mouth, Xiumin continues.  "How about this instead—help me fix Taozi up, and he'll come with me anytime I leave this building.  This case will be our number one priority, but I'm still going to help anyone else I can."  

Chen opens his mouth again, but Xiumin holds up a finger.  "And after a day or two when we hopefully have a better handle on the situation, you can resume your deadly duties—but you'll take Lu with you."

"Hey, don't drag me into this," the invidius protests.  "I'm just the messenger."

Xiumin rounds on the infuriating creature.  "You fucking got  _drunk_  off of me earlier—I'm absolutely dragging you into this."

Chen glares at the invidius so hard Xiumin is half-afraid Lu will burst into flames, but Xiumin just puts a hand on his overzealous familiar's bare chest, brushing his thumb over the silver barbel with Xiumin's Korean name on it that pierces the demon's nipple.  The reminder of ownership calms the possessive beast enough to look at his human instead of the invidius. 

"You're mine, and I need you safe," Xiumin murmurs.  "You and Lu used to work together before, right?  So you can watch each other's backs."

"Why can't you and I be a team, and Lu go with Taozi?" Chen mumbles.

"You know why," Xiumin murmurs back.  "You're not going to take me to assassinate demons with you, and those two idiots would get absolutely nowhere investigating on their own.  You're not going to send them off to assassinate demons for you while you help me investigate, either.  It has to be like this, and neither of us like it much—"

"I don't like it either.  And the dead cat doesn't seem to like _anything_."

"—but we're just going to all have to suck it up until this is over," Xiumin finishes despite Lu's interruption. 

He slides his hand up from Chen's pec to his face, cupping one of the prominent cheekbones that seems to fit into his palm as if it were made to be there.  Chen turns into the caress to kiss Xiumin's palm, then lifts recalcitrant black eyes up to meet Xiumin's soft espresso gaze.

"I hate these stupid human fucking feelings you forced on me," Chen growls.  "They complicate my existence so fucking much."

"Love hurts," Xiumin agrees.  "I'm sure you know at least twenty songs in as many different languages with themes to that effect."

"Try hundreds," Chen retorts.  "I'm going to sing them all to you in the shower until this nonsense is done with."

"I look forward to it," Xiumin murmurs, using the hand on Chen's face to draw him in for a kiss.

Chen responds sullenly at first, but the link melts from resentment into need in a hurry, the demon's kisses going from reluctant to insistent.  He moves from Xiumin's lips to his throat, biting more marks into sensitive skin, and Xiumin narrows his eyes at Lu over Chen's shoulder.

_I fucking told you_ , he mouths.

The invidius rolls his eyes.  "Get a fucking room, you two—or at least put on some fucking pants."

"This is our home," Xiumin retorts.  "You invited yourself in, you can't complain about what you see."

Lu looks like he has another smart remark lined up, but the door chimes before he can express it.

Xiumin presses lips and eyes shut for a moment, then pushes gently at Chen's shoulders.  "Take Lu and Taozi into the apartment," he instructs.  "Taozi talked to me a little earlier—see if you can get him to talk more now that someone can actually understand him properly.  Ask him about Sehun—that's what got the most reaction when I was trying to feed him."

With a reluctant groan, Chen releases him and goes to scoop up the Siamese from the floor.  Xiumin darts for the button on the wall that lets people into the lobby of the building, gathering up Chen's shed garments and flinging them through the open door into the apartment.  Then he pulls open his desk drawer, grabbing the bottle of concealer and the hand mirror he keeps there, smearing the product over the worst of Chen's claiming marks just as the second bell rings to indicate his clients are outside the office door.

"Go," Xiumin hisses at Lu, gesturing him through the door after the other two.  He sighs down at the mismatched sweats he's still wearing but shrugs in resignation, pushing the button on his desk that unlocks the office door just as the apartment door shuts behind the demonic trio.

As the clients—a well-dressed man who looks to be in his fifties, accompanied by a young adult that shares enough resemblance that Xiumin is sure the two are related—make their way into the office, Xiumin dresses himself in professionalism to make up for his casual attire. 

He offers a respectful bow.  "Welcome, please, come in, sit down.  Private detective Jin Xiumin at your service."

The clients return the bow.  "I'm Liu Kuanlin, " the man says.  "This is my daughter, Yiyin."  He pulls out the chair for her, which makes her roll her eyes although she accepts the gesture.

"Pleasure to meet you both," Xiumin smiles.  "Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you," Yiyin says. "We're only here to settle an argument."

Ah, the skeptic child—a commonly-encountered creature.  Belief in the supernatural is of course old-school and irrational, so when their parent starts insisting something unexplainable happened to them and they're going to get a professional involved, the dutiful offspring humor their parents while making sure they're not getting taken advantage of.

Xiumin offers his habitual friendly-and-concerned tone accompanied by his most sincere smile.  "Ah, well, I'm happy to listen.  Sometimes people just want advice about whether to call the cops or the Wu." 

Xiumin actually recommends the shaman more often than the cops, because most people know when the cops are clearly warranted.  Not that Xiumin actually thinks the Wu generally do anything more for the family than settle their minds, but sometimes, that's all that's needed.  It doesn't matter how high-tech Beijing gets—there are still people who hold on to the old ways as a matter of national pride and cultural identity in an increasingly-globalized world, and Xiumin is just fine going along with that.  He's lived in China almost as long as he'd lived in Korea, and he still insists on eating kimchi at least once a day.  Comfort comes in many forms, and Xiumin certainly isn't going to judge.

"We talked to the cops already," Yiyin says.  "And Grandma is a shaman—the whole family is riddled with Wu.  The cops collected evidence and said that they'd issue a permit to exhume the body if we want.  But Grandma said it was better that we cut our losses and move on, because disturbing the buried dead is dangerously disrespectful.  But I didn't respect that conniving woman while she was alive, and I am not letting my evil step-mother continue to make our lives miserable from the grave."

Xiumin manages to keep his face neutral despite this unexpected response.  Skepticism doesn't seem to be a barrier in this particular case.  "I see.  Well, the initial consultation is on the house—I'm not about to take payment for help I haven't yet provided.  But if it's something that neither the cops or the Wu can easily help with, well, then, that's generally where I come in." 

The man nods his graying head at Xiumin's words, but his daughter—hair dyed blonde and cut short, face animated and cute but with a determined set to her jaw—appraises him with fierce eyes for a moment.  Her gaze wanders over Xiumin's face, down his neck, to his clothing and back up to his face.

"There's something... Odd about you," she announces.

Xiumin feels himself blush.  "Ah, well, I do apologize for my casual dress—"

"It's not that," she dismisses.  "I'm hardly going to judge someone for wearing what's comfortable instead of what's expected."  Indeed, she's wearing clothing Xiumin sees more often on male university students, down to the knee-length shorts and the snapback worn backwards.  "Can I feel your pulses?"

This is not the first time he's been asked this by a potential client, so Xiumin merely proffers both wrists, then sticks out his tongue for her inspection when prompted. 

"Huh.  I don't think I've ever met anyone whose qi is so balanced," Yiyin says as Xiumin slides his cuffs back down his wrists.  "It's actually kind of freaky.  I mean, everyone has  _something_  that's out of whack at least a little bit."

Xiumin gives a sheepish smile.  "I usually get told I'm too stressed," he says.

"Well, there's a bit of that, but I assumed it was typical for your line of work.  But aside from that, you're eerily healthy."

Healthy-but-stressed is pretty much Xiumin's default, thanks to his darling demon on both accounts, so he merely responds with a polite smile.  "Stress does come with the job," he agrees.  "If my qi passes muster, perhaps you'd like to start at the beginning before we plan to dig up any bodies?"

Mr. Liu looks a bit abashed.  "I do apologize for my daughter's forward nature," he says, looking at Xiumin with the dark eyes that he shares with his daughter, though his are soft where hers are bright.  "Yiyin was raised in America by my ex-wife until she was in middle school, and she occasionally misplaces the manners expected in her home country."

"California  _is_  home," Yiyin grumbles.  "And I prefer to be called Amber."

Xiumin nods amiably, then looks at the pair expectantly.  "So, Mr. Liu, you re-married, I take it?  And are having some type of issue with your current wife?"

"Not current," Amber states.  "My step-mother is dead—or at least, she's supposed to be."

Xiumin raises a brow.  "Why do you think she's not?"

"Because our family runs a jewelry store, and it's bio-secured due to all the valuables.  Yet her fingerprints were used to unlock the door to the shop after-hours twice now, and we have her image on the security camera stealing from us."

Xiumin blinks.  "Well.  That is certainly unusual."

Amber gives him a look.  "It's fucking creepy, is what it is," she declares, ignoring her father's admonition for her choice of language.  "And Grandma says that disembodied spirits can be tangible if they're suitably vengeful, and that opening the coffin for a bunch of unpopular gemstones isn't worth the bad luck for disturbing the dead."

"I see," says Xiumin.  "But?"

"But I think that bitch is still alive, and faked her own death to get back at us for not bowing to her every wish, and I think she'll keep coming back and taking more and more each time."

Xiumin nods.  This is a situation he's well-qualified to clarify.  "I can certainly help you figure out if you're being visited by the living," he assures them.  "And I'm happy to at least begin in such a way that doesn't involve any shovels."

This earns him a smile from both Lius across the desk, one amused, the other relieved.

 

He discusses payment and plan of action and has them fill out all the required forms, and while he's happy to be able to offer his assistance to a family that needs him, he's also really happy to send them on out the door with an appointment to meet them at their shop later to begin the investigation.

Eager to begin another investigation, Xiumin practically throws open the door to the living quarters, only to see Chen stepping out of the guest room and closing the door softly behind him.

"How did it go?" they ask each other at the same time, only to grin, melting the tension across the link between them a little.

"You first," Xiumin invites.  "Did you get anything out of Taozi?  Is Lu still in there with him?"

"Taozi's asleep, and Lu is a coward so he stripped and turned into a rook and pecked me until I let him escape out the window."

"That winged weasel," Xiumin scowls.  "I had more questions for him."

Chen grins.  "Oh, he'll be back.  I made him promise.  And I made Taozi promise to let you feed him instead of resisting.  He doesn't want to go back to the abyss, and he's agreed to protect you for me once he's well."

Xiumin sighs in relief.  "Well, that's something, at least."

"Who are your new clients?"

"A man and his daughter who run a jewelry shop that's being burgled by someone that has the fingerprints and appearance of the man's dead wife," Xiumin summarizes.

"An avarus?" Chen guesses, assuming as Xiumin had that it would be one of the demons of greed borrowing the woman's shape to get the valuables it craved.

"I thought so, too, at first, but it's taking lower-value things when higher-value ones are just as easily acquired," Xiumin replies.  "I'm not sure what to make of it, so I'd love if you used your suddenly-empty schedule to come with me to their shop and help me out, almost as if you were  _my_  familiar instead of _hers_." 

"I'm always yours," Chen frowns.  "But I really do need to hunt, Minseokkie."

"No."

Frustration boils up the link.  "I've been tracking a lanius for  _months_ , and it's finally gone to ground somewhere I can get at it without involving innocents.  If I don't act fast, I may lose this chance, and it could hurt more people."

Xiumin scowls at his familiar.  "You are the worst kind of manipulative fiend.  How am I supposed to choose between risking your life and letting innocents suffer because of my selfishness?"

Chen steps closer, kissing his rigid lips.  "I'll be just fine.  I read Lu's report—all the disappearances have happened in the city, and I'm going way out to the countryside.  I'll leave as soon as you feed me up, and be back as soon as I can.  I'll be quick and careful and back in your arms before you know it, and then I'll stay with you until we've figured out what the fuck is going on, okay?"

Lips still curled with displeasure, Xiumin returns Chen's kisses roughly.  "How the fuck can I love you so much and yet hate your ability to constantly get your own way?"

"You deny me plenty," Chen scoffs.  "If I truly had my own way, you'd never leave the bed and you'd either be sound asleep or hanging off my cock.  Whenever you'd wake up, I'd bring you food and hand-feed you while all your hair sticks up all over the place adorably, just like you were my baby bird in a safe, cozy nest, and once you were full I'd fuck you into a coma again."

Xiumin leans away from his lover to scald him with a very judging look.  "I'm just a pretty little pet to you, is that it?"

Chen grins and nods shamelessly.  "A  _delicious_  pet."

"You're heinous," Xiumin states, eyes narrowed.

"I'm a fucking demon," Chen agrees, eyes curved.  "You should get the crown out of the closet so you can wear it while you punish my tight little ass."

"Later," Xiumin dismisses, releasing his familiar despite the interest in Chen's suggestion from beneath his sweatpants.  "I'm going to get dressed and so are you, and then we're going to go check out the jewelry shop before you abandon your fucked-out baby bird all alone in a cold, lonely nest."

"So salty," Chen accuses with a laugh, but he pulls open the drawer that contains the tail-accommodating underwear.

"Wow," Xiumin laughs, shedding his sweats in favor of a pair of professional trousers and a button-down shirt.  "Pulling out ancient internet slang to insult your human."

"You're old and crusty, you deserve old, crusty insults," Chen decrees, conveniently ignoring that he's millennia older than Xiumin.  "Now let's go case your jewelry joint so I can get on with the  _real_  work."

Xiumin shakes his head as he follows his familiar out of the apartment.  "You really do want to be punished, don't you?"

Chen gives him a sultry grin as he wields his eyelashes like Japanese war fans.  "You haven't made me scream in so long, Minseokkie," he purrs.

Xiumin scoffs and rolls his eyes as they exit the building, but only half his mind is on locating the address the Lius gave him.  Loving a demon means Xiumin is no stranger to having his pleasure mixed with pain, but for him, the torment of his nerve endings is only a price worth paying for the enhanced payoff at the end.  And while Chen absolutely  _loves_  that Xiumin allows himself to be abused a bit for the demon's satisfaction, Chen has also stopped denying his enjoyment of the flip side of the coin.

Even after all this time, it's still a bit strange to Xiumin that his familiar not only gets off on pain for pain's sake, but likes it enough to goad the human into it.  But it doesn't take much goading anymore—Xiumin is far more comfortable giving his familiar what he obviously wants, to the point where he's pretty sure he'd be aroused by it even without the searing lust sizzling up the link whenever he's rough with the incubus.  And since Chen could easily defend himself from the weaker human and is clearly choosing to accept what Xiumin dishes out, and since the demon always emerges from their encounters fully healed and full of energy, Xiumin has stopped feeling like a monster himself for enjoying it as well.

Therefore, by the time they step through the doors to the quaint little jewelry shop owned by the Lius, Xiumin has a grin on his face and a plan to wreck his familiar in his head.

"Welcome," Mr. Liu calls with a smile as they enter.  "I'm grateful you were able to come visit right away."  He turns to an older woman beside him.  "Mother, this is private investigator Jin, and...?"  He trails off expectantly with a smile for Chen.

"My associate, Jin Chen," Xiumin introduces.  "He consults whenever there's an ethereal aspect to the case, as I'm 'blinded by logic,' as he puts it."  

Chen bows deeply, wearing his most disarming smile.  He gets an answering bow from Mr. Liu, but a quick bob and a suspicious look from the man's mother.  It's a little strange for someone not to instantly like the literally-charming demon, but Mother Liu darts a concerned look at Xiumin as well, so he takes her for a naturally wary sort of person.  

When the introductions and social niceties are complete, Mr. Liu happily grants their request to look around while he compiles a list of what's been stolen so far.  The shop is much nicer on the inside than the shabby exterior would lead someone to believe, and Xiumin has changed his impression of the lack of upkeep from neglect to a deliberate sham to escape criminal notice, not that it's doing them much good lately.

The walls are lined with glass-fronted cases containing all manner of jewelry, cut and polished stones of all colors set into a variety of metals.  Xiumin elbows his lover and points out a display of dangling earrings, only to earn a scowl and a firm shake of the head.  Xiumin only smirks, because while Chen enjoys seeing jewelry in Xiumin's earlobes, he's enacted a ban on anything dangly.

On a more serious note, the shop appears to be as secure as is reasonably possible, with titanium grates that lower in place over the windows, already made of laminated metallic impact-resistant glass according to the public construction records Xiumin pulled up on his tablet.  The front door can only be locked or unlocked from the inside, so the biometric security the Lius mentioned must be on the rear employee entrance. 

However, at least six security cameras are in evidence, both over the gem displays and behind the counter to monitor employees as they clean or set jewelry for customers.  This makes Xiumin wonder if they've ever employed non-family members, but then he realizes that having a video record that they performed the services requested would protect them from litigation from unscrupulous customers claiming their stones had been swapped for cheaper ones or damaged while in the jeweler's care.

The whole time the two of them are exploring the public area of the shop, Mother Liu is watching with a gimlet eye.  Her gaze seems to rest mostly on Chen, but flicks occasionally to Xiumin as well.  The PI is starting to wish that the direct-but-warm Amber were present instead of this frosty matron.  

Thankfully, Mr. Liu soon returns with a data chip that Xiumin pops into the reader of his tablet, waiting for the device to declare the data free of viruses before displaying the requested information.

The stolen goods are all sapphires, but not the signature blue and appealing pink varieties that are always popular.  Xiumin didn't know sapphires came in green, much less "whiskey."  He snorts, instantly suspicious that someone decided to call brown, unmarketable stones after expensive liquor in order to sell what might otherwise be unsellable.  There are also a few yellow, gray, and orange stones listed.

All the stolen sapphires are fairly large, cut square or rectangular, and they all have the highest possible score for clarity.  So they must be "inexpensive" in Amber's words—they still look pretty costly to Xiumin—solely because of their color.  They've also evidently been both collected from the loose gems waiting to be set into jewelry, and prised from existing settings, damaging or destroying the fancy metalwork in the process.

Definitely not the work of an avarus, unless under orders from a human master.  But even then, if the master wanted only the gems, the avarus would have to be specifically instructed to leave the settings behind.  And why would anyone command a demon to steal a bunch of mismatched, less desirable sapphires anyway?  And why only square ones?

Xiumin hands the tablet to Chen so the incubus won't have to read over his shoulder.  "Which cases were the stones lifted from?" he asks Mr. Liu.

"Ah, well, we keep the stones sorted by color rather than variety, so all over, really," the man says.  "People come in and say, 'I want a blue stone but I'm not sure which kind' a lot more often than they come in and say, 'I want a diamond but I'm not sure which color.'"

Xiumin lifts a brow.  "Diamonds come in colors?"

"Just about as many as sapphires, actually," the jeweler says.  "And sapphires also come in clear, or 'white' as we call it.  Those two stones—along with rubies, which are chemically the same as sapphires except for the impurity that makes them red rather than some other color—are about three quarters of my business, being both durable and available in practically any color someone could want."

"It's hard to imagine why anyone would want a brown or gray stone," Xiumin says, gazing at a case full of beautiful blue sapphires of all shapes and sizes, set into stunning examples of rings. bracelets, earrings and necklaces.

"These colors often appeal to men, which is why we market them as 'whiskey' or 'steel.'  But sometimes women want a statement piece that's strikingly different from what everyone else is wearing."  He shows Xiumin to a case that seems to be dominated by masculine-styled jewelry set with the stones in question.  

Xiumin has to admit that the stones that may look less exciting lying loose next to their more colorful counterparts certainly look striking when set into matte metal or bold designs.  There's a set of steel sapphires set into a pair of brushed silvery rings, bands wide and sized for a man's typically-larger fingers. The label declares the metal to be titanium "for a love that's as strong and enduring as you are," and the obviously male/male wedding jewelry makes Xiumin look at his own spouse with a small twinge of guilt.  

They hadn't gotten rings because Minseok was always wary of wearing jewelry on the job when he was on the force and Chen was already wearing Xiumin's silver ear and nipple piercings and therefore it seemed a bit superfluous.  But maybe his familiar would like a symbol of his human's esteem that he'd actually be proud to show people in public.

"Absolutely not," Chen laughs from over his shoulder.  "You could buy me some tasteful studs to replace the hoops in my ears if you want, but don't get any other ideas."

But Xiumin already  _has_  other ideas.  "Chen, look at these black stones!  They're just like your eyes—they don't reflect any light at all!"

Mr. Liu laughs.  "Those are black sapphires, and they do indeed seem to absorb the light.  Black sapphires are more popular if they're the kind with asterism, but I do keep some faceted stones around for people who want bling without the bling, as it were."

Xiumin tilts his head at the several dozen stones in the case.  "So these are also less popular sapphires?  But they haven't been stolen—there are square and rectangular stones right here that the thief hasn't touched."

Mr. Liu shrugs.  "Maybe she will next time.  But my wife never did like non-transparent stones.  Uh, you know.  If it's her."

The investigator gazes at all the creative, striking jewelry set with the highly-polished yet still barely-reflective faceted stones, eyes landing on a pair set into simple studs.  

"Are those silver?" he asks Mr. Liu.

"Platinum, actually, but if you want any of the stones set into anything else, I can always design something custom."

Xiumin nods but doesn't pursue the idea further.  He likes putting Chen in earrings that add sparkle to his face, or ones that at least don't take it away.  And while Xiumin probably could exert his authority and force Chen to wear a black sapphire ring, he figures it's not worth it for a whim, just because the gems make him think of the demon's inky-black eyes.

"I'll tell you what," Chen murmurs into his ear as he wraps his arms around Xiumin's waist from behind and hooks his chin over the human's shoulder.  "How about I get  _y_ _ou_  a black sapphire ring, so you can see the beauty of the eyes you love, even when I'm not around?"

Mr. Liu smiles broadly at them.  "Wow, that was pretty smooth, and that's from someone who's heard all sorts of romantic speeches in front of my counters over the years."

Xiumin snorts.  "He's definitely the more dramatic of the two of us."

"I absolutely am _not_ ," Chen protests.  "But we're not actually here to shop for jewelry.  Perhaps we should get back to trying to make sure the man still has jewels left to sell."

"Would you like to see the security footage?" Mr. Liu offers.

"Of course," Xiumin nods, gesturing for the jeweler to lead the way, following after with his pinky finger still linked with Chen's.  He glances up at Mother Liu to see if her scowl intensifies at this display of their relationship, because while most people don't care who partners with whom anymore, the elder generation is always the most conservative.  However, the woman's stern eyes seem to have softened a bit, if anything.

The tiny security room is, like most of its kind, wall-to-wall monitors with a console beneath to control the cameras and access the saved video.  Mr. Liu pulls up the relevant videos, and Chen and Xiumin observe the footage closely.  

What appears to be a smaller-than-average woman calmly walks into the store from the back, lets herself behind the counter, and opens a drawer with her thumbprint.  She pulls out a small black velvet bag, then begins systematically going through the display cases, which also open for her thumbprint.  She removes a gem here and there to add to the velvet bag, spending more time in front of some cases than others though only about ten minutes overall.  She appears to know exactly what she's after, and doesn't waste any time in getting it.  She re-secures the cases and drawers she'd opened, then she just as calmly exits the building, leaving it locked behind her.

"And this woman appears to be your late wife?" Xiumin asks.  

Mr. Liu nods, eyes sad.  "She looks just like my Suying.  And the records from the security system show that her biosigs were used to access everything at that date and time."

"And she's been back again?"

"Twice," the jeweler reports.  "And that's where things get really strange, because Yiyin immediately removed Suying's access privileges after the first theft."  

He pulls up footage from another date about three weeks later,  where the external camera catches what appears to be the same woman (in the same outfit, even), attempting to unlock the rear door.  The biopad flashes red repeatedly and the woman stamps her foot.  She walks away, and Mr. Liu jumps to a time signature about two hours later.  Again, the woman approaches the rear door and offers her thumb to the biopad.  This time, it glows green and the door unlocks.

"Sometime during that same night, my car was broken into, even though it's secured in an underground lot."

Chen scowls.  "Let me guess:  the lot was accessed with your wife's biosigs, but even though the window of your car was broken, nothing valuable was taken."

Mr. Liu nods.  "The only thing missing was my insulated travel coffee cup.  Yiyin watches all those crime dramas, and she's convinced that Suying somehow lifted my prints from the cup and duplicated them somehow."

"Because your biosigs were used to access the shop when she came back?" Xiumin asks.

Another nod from the jeweler.

"I'm sure that's exactly what happened," Chen says.  "But I can assure you that the perpetrator isn't your late wife, just some sicko disguised as her."

Mr. Liu's face remains politely neutral, but his shoulders relax a tiny bit.  "I obviously can't deny access to my own biosigs, so when she came back a third time and used them again last week, that's when Yiyin became determined to find someone to help us."

Xiumin smiles reassuringly.  "Well, we'll certainly do our best for you.  We've seen similar cases of appropriated identity, and it's sometimes difficult to actually catch the one responsible.  But in the meantime, if you could upgrade your rear door bio-security to include an iris scanner, that should up the difficulty enough to be an effective deterrent."

"I'd considered that, but my daughter is concerned that will only escalate things further.  She really does watch too many crime dramas."

Chen grins.  "So does Xiumin, but only because he likes to yell at the characters for doing things incorrectly."

Mr. Liu laughs.  "I save my yelling at the TV for sporting events, but otherwise I'm just as guilty."

"Everyone needs stress relief," Xiumin defends himself.  He tugs the data chip Mr. Liu had given him earlier out of his tablet and offers it to the jeweler.  "If you could copy the relevant footage onto this, that would be helpful."  

"And while we hate to invade your privacy any more than needed, if you could provide us with the details of your wife's funeral and interment, we'll be able to make a few discreet and respectful inquiries in that direction to provide peace of mind," Chen adds.

The jeweler nods, raising watery eyes from the monitors as they wait for the footage to copy.  "I would definitely prefer to resolve this without disturbing Suying's final rest.  She wasn't a perfect wife, and Yiyin will tell you she was far from a perfect stepmother, but I did love her despite her shortcomings."

Xiumin gives him a gentle smile.  "If everyone were perfect, I think love wouldn't be as special."

"I am standing  _right here_ ," Chen protests, effectively shattering the maudlin mood.

 

Mr. Liu happily provides all the information they request, adding everything to the data chip and thanking them profusely for agreeing to look into the situation.  

"We'll do our best," Xiumin assures him.

They make their way back to the showroom and Chen moves off to document the rear entrance with photos while Xiumin does the same with the burgled displays.  It's not always helpful to do this, and Xiumin doubts it'll do them much good in this case, either, but it doesn't hurt to be thorough and it gives people the impression they're taking the job seriously, that they're _doing_  something.  And after all the years on the force, Xiumin has a hard time leaving a "crime scene" without scads of photos.  It makes him feel like he's _doing_ _something_ , too.

With his eyes on his phone's display, Xiumin jumps when Mother Liu grabs hold of his elbow with surprisingly-strong fingers.

"Mr. Jin," she whispers.  "You are Daoshi?"

"No, Madam," Xiumin says, denying any association with Taoist mysticism.

"Then how is it you do not suffer the devil-disease?" the elder demands to know, eyes hard.

"Devil-disease?" Xiumin asks, lifting a brow.

"He is a fox, then?" She eyes Chen where he's singing some Euro-pop song as he takes over photographing the displays.

"Chen?" Xiumin clarifies.  "He's my associate.  And... my spouse."

She blinks at him, wide eyes feeling like they're boring into his very soul.  "Does he have a shadow?"

Xiumin blinks back.  "Uh. Of course he does?"

She continues to scrutinize him between furtive glances at Chen until the demon hollers, "Ready to go, Boss?" in a sing-song voice.  His adorably-recurved smile is on full display, and he's shaking his booty to the rhythm of the song he's still singing softly to entertain himself.  He looks for all the world like a kitten ready to pounce on a feather, and not at all like a terrifying, sword-wielding demonic hitman.

"I'll be right there," Xiumin calls, unable to suppress his smile at his familiar's antics—especially because he knows the underlying cause of the demon's excitement.

The woman narrows her eyes at him.  "Daoshi," she declares again, but she releases his arm.

Xiumin gives up denying what she's convinced is true.  Instead, he politely excuses himself, bids Mr. Liu goodbye, and accompanies his bouncy (read: hungry and about to be  _very_  well fed) familiar out to the sidewalk.

"What was the Wu giving you a hard time about?" Chen asks.  "The link said you were confused and amused rather than upset, so I didn't growl at her for glaring at you."

"Thanks for maintaining basic social niceties," Xiumin rolls his eyes.  "She just accused me of being a Daoshi, and asked me if you were a fox."

Chen tilts his head, brows lifted as the link reveals he's impressed.  "Huh, so she's the real deal, then.  We'll have to be a little bit careful around her."

"Why?"

"She suspects I'm not human, and while I doubt she could or would attempt to exorcise me, it's still best to skirt around the edges of True Believers of any sort.  They often... complicate things."

But then Chen's pensive face splits back into a merry grin.  "You should have told her you  _were_  Daoshi, and that you'd tamed a fox who gave you the secret to eternal life.  The ancient Taoists were always trying to achieve immortality, but evidently none of them ever tried making a devil love them forever."

Xiumin laughs.  "But you're not a devil or a fox, and you're definitely not tame."

Chen shrugs.  "Different cultures name us different things.  But I have been a fox in this country before.   And you didn't bind me, so I could wear fox ears and several bushy tails for her benefit."

"No way," Xiumin dismisses.  "You're my mischievous little kitty, and when we get home I'm gonna make you caterwaul for me."

The incubus grabs Xiumin's hand and drags the laughing human more quickly down the street.

 

 

* * *

_Author's note:  Sorry it's been so long!  I got a little distracted by a[one-shot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16448633).  But I have Big Plans for this story, so please anticipate!_


	3. Purrloined Goods

When they get home from the Lius' jewelry shop, Chen tries to drag Xiumin straight to the bedroom.  But Xiumin resists, tugging his familiar close and nibbling on his lower lip.

"Let's feed Taozi a little more, first," Xiumin says.  "You'd better drain me hard if you're insisting on going back out there alone, which means I'll be unconscious once I'm done with you."

The demon pouts in Xiumin's arms.  "I suppose you want me to pet him?"

Xiumin nods.  

Chen rolls his eyes.  "Ugh, whose idea was this again?" he whines, but he precedes the human to the guest bedroom where they'd left the cat, Xiumin being unwilling to let him lurk outside the building with a possible demon-killer on the loose.

The heap of Siamese on the bed doesn't react at all when they enter the room, pale fur contrasting starkly with the navy blue bedspread.  Xiumin is suddenly reminded that white is the color for death, and he frowns.  The current "ghost" case is making him morbid.

"Taozi," Chen calls softly.  "Will you feed?"

Sapphire eyes slowly blink open, set off against Taozi's dark face like Mr. Liu's gems against black velvet.  Xiumin grins to see the cat even this responsive, and he hops up onto the bed near Taozi's head.

"Hey, big guy," he murmurs.

Chen flops down next to both of them, resting his head on Xiumin's thigh and wrapping an arm around his waist.  He runs the fingers of his other hand through Taozi's fur, causing the cat's eyes to half-close.  "You know I hate when he does this," the incubus reminds the imp.  "Feed well, so I don't have to suffer through this awkwardness too many times."

"Be nice to him, Chenny," Xiumin chides.  "He's a good friend, and he's going to help us, aren't you, TaoTao?"

The cat makes a tiny noise that Xiumin decides to take as agreement.  He launches into a litany of all the imp's admirable traits, Chen squirming more and more into his lap as the list goes on.  By the time Taozi's meow is interpreted by a relieved Chen as indicating he's full for now, the incubus is draped within the nest of Xiumin's crossed legs, the imp cradled to his chest.

It's a cozy little scene, and Xiumin wouldn't mind enjoying it longer if he could still feel his legs.  But of course, Chen has other things on his mind, so Taozi gets laid back on the bedspread with a "sleepwellseeyoulater" and then Xiumin is dragged from one bedroom to another, doors being firmly shut along the way.

The link is writhing with jealousy, so Xiumin lets himself be stripped and hustled into the shower and scrubbed down, letting the possessive incubus use washing him as an excuse to put his hands all over his human.  

"How do you want to scream for me, Chenny-Chenny?" Xiumin murmurs as his familiar's hands return to an already-very-clean part of his body.  "What are you gonna allow this human to do to such a powerful demon?"

"Burn me," Chen rumbles before going back to sucking more hickeys against his throat.

Xiumin emits a low hum, knowing it's vibrating through his familiar's lips.  "Yes, ChenChen.  I'm gonna spread you out on the bed, and then I'm gonna fuck you up."

Chen moans around the mouthful of flesh, finishing off his work with an especially-painful suck before letting the abused skin pop out of his mouth.

"Fucking do it then," the demon challenges, shutting off the water, exiting the shower, and throwing a towel at Xiumin.

Xiumin growls, hiding his grin behind the fluffy fabric as he chases the demon from the bathroom.  His familiar loves playing the brat, and Xiumin loves to indulge him.

So after rubbing the towel cursorily over his hair, Xiumin grabs his demon, lifts him up, and tosses him onto the bed, watching in satisfaction as Chen's wings stay folded to allow him to bounce forcefully as he lands.

Xiumin scrambles over him, letting his cock drag a line of pre-come up the demon's abs as he forces Chen's hands above his head.  "Disrespectful demon," he addresses his familiar.  "Do I have to restrain you, or will you submit to your Master?"

"I don't submit to the weak," Chen spits, but he's grinning as Xiumin fumbles between the mattress and the headboard for the padded cuffs they tuck out of the way when not in use.  

Xiumin is grinning, too, because Chen doesn't submit to _anybody_ —except, of course, for his human, and only partly because Chen's curse compels him to obey a direct order from the one he's bound to.  The demon follows the Temptress's orders, too, but—as Xiumin had blatantly exploited earlier—he is first and foremost Xiumin's creature, and Xiumin would be lying if he said that inexorable knowledge didn't turn him on  _hard_.  

Chen resists being cuffed to the headboard, but only enough to make Xiumin work for it, still grinning up at the human as he allows himself to be overpowered.  When his dangerous demon is adequately restrained, Xiumin drops his weight onto Chen's chest, stretching his body out on top of his familiar, and claims several filthy, enthusiastically-returned kisses.

"Alright then, Chenny.  What color do you want?"

"Red," Chen answers with a smirk.

"Yeah?  My familiar is really hungry for pain tonight." 

Xiumin leans over to open the drawer in the bedside table and pull out a pair of red taper candles, partially used but still quite long, leaving the purple, blue, and white ones behind.  The color denotes what temperature the wax melts at, with the white being the lowest.  When their current positions are reversed, Xiumin's "delicate princeling skin" only gets spattered with white or blue wax, with the occasional drip of purple if Chen is feeling particularly sadistic.  Chen almost always chooses the purple candles for his own torment, but only because he knows that Xiumin is more grossed out than turned on by the instant blisters the red wax produces upon contact with his skin.

"Make me howl, Minseokkie," Chen smirks as Xiumin lights the candles before tossing the lighter back into the drawer.

"Oh, I will," Xiumin says, giving the wax a moment to melt.  "You demons are supposed to be red and hideous, but here you are all pale gold and handsome.  How dare you try to pass yourself off as a sexy little catboy?  I need to expose you for what you truly are."

"Fuck, yessss," Chen hisses as Xiumin dribbles the first dose of molten wax over his chest, drawing an angry line of blisters down the demon's sternum as the link explodes with arousal.

Grinning, Xiumin continues the line with the second candle, alternating hands until his familiar is striped from the hollow of his throat to his navel.  He pauses, sitting on Chen's thighs to fill that navel with wax as the demon writhes against his restraints and spits a string of curses over the lust streaming across the link.  

Chen's erection is almost as red as his wax-coated skin, but Xiumin leaves it alone for a while.  Instead, he draws molten spirals over Chen's pecs, outlines his clavicles, fills the hollow of his throat, all while the demon thrashes beneath him, lifting Xiumin's ass off the bed as he arches and flexes those mighty thighs.

Xiumin attacks Chen's ribs next, highlighting dips and ridges with streaks of wax, watching the surrounding skin redden to match.  Chen's cock bounces against his belly with every shriek Xiumin draws forth from the demon's throat, strings of pre-come stretching from happy trail to happy dick before Chen's next twitch snaps the fragile connection.

Almost drunk on the deluge of desire Chen is feeding him over the link, Xiumin concentrates to shift himself off of the demon's thighs to kneel between his legs without dripping candle wax on himself.  He sits, frog-legged, close to Chen's ass, pinning the demon's thrashing tail beneath himself before spattering droplets along his familiar's sensitive v-line to earn the loudest screams yet.

Xiumin smirks, giving Chen a moment to pant through his pain.  They were really lucky to find this commercial/residential combo unit with enhanced soundproofing.  The previous tenants had claimed they needed it because they were using the bedrooms as music recording studios to make demos for up-and-coming starlets.  But the neighbors had complained that these "starlets" were constantly leaving in tears, and the resulting investigation had turned up the fact that the tenants were making video recordings instead of audio ones, and that they were incredibly non-consensual at that.

Those creeps went to jail, thanks to their own recordings, and the landlord was quite happy to let the unit to a PI, especially when Xiumin promised he intended to uphold the law rather than break it.

A dozen years later, Scarlet Sagwa bought the building, and no other tenant is allowed to stay longer than a decade, ensuring constant turnover so nobody will notice that the PI on the first floor doesn't age.  The soundproof bedrooms ensure they don't notice anything else.

Doubly grateful for the auditory privacy now that they have a flatmate again, Xiumin resumes his sexual torment of his eager victim.  "Knees up," he commands.  "Spread 'em."

Still panting, Chen nonetheless raises and spreads his legs, giving Xiumin better access to his most sensitive bits.  First, Xiumin traces zig-zags along Chen's inner thighs, always amazed that his familiar can hold a body part so still to accept the human's abuse while writhing everything else.  The best Xiumin can do in the reverse situation is manage not to punch Chen—the familiar has learned to restrain the human's reflexively-kicking legs if he wants to push past the human's tolerance.

Xiumin snorts as the dripping wax lands closer and closer to Chen's cock while the demon only pants, legs spread, watching his human with a molten obsidian gaze.  Perhaps Xiumin would be as good at holding still if he knew that as soon as they both came, any damage to his body would be healed.  That comforting fact is the only reason Xiumin can make himself maim his beautiful lover at all, much less trail molten wax along the length of his twitching cock as Chen screams himself hoarse.  The demon's back is bowed up off the bed and his thrashing tail is undulating between Xiumin's asscheeks, but he's still spread and vulnerable and the link throbs with heady arousal.

"More?" Xiumin asks when Chen is back to frantically panting, spine limp against the bedspread.

"Get in me," Chen whispers, words still forceful despite the lack of volume.  "Bet I can make you come without thrusting when you burn my dick again."

Xiumin hums, intrigued at the prospect.  He shifts both candles into one hand, holding them to drip over Chen's stomach as he leans to grab the lube.  He slicks himself quickly, moaning at the sensation, then guides his dick into Chen's molten depths with forceful thrusts, having skipped prepping the demon at all so his familiar can feel the burn.

When he's bottomed out, Xiumin smirks down at his little masochist and takes one candle in each hand again.

"Ready to milk your master's cock?" he taunts.

Chen's nod ends with his chin pointed to the ceiling above a scream as Xiumin directs the dripping wax onto the head of the demon's cock, making it redder and angrier than it already was.  The silver ball on the bottom of the apadravya stands out like a bullet in a pool of blood and Chen clenches _hard_  around Xiumin's cock, the sensation almost painful.  Xiumin interrupts his own yell to blow out the candle in his left hand, shaking the last of the liquid wax over Chen's sternum before tossing the candle aside.  

With his empty hand, Xiumin uses the silver barbell to tug Chen's cock away from his belly, pulling it past vertical so the blistered head is aimed at the human's abs.  He uses the candle in his right hand to drizzle wax over the so-far undamaged side, shouting in rhythm with Chen's shrieks as the demon seems to do his best to break Xiumin's cock off inside him.

Chen's ass is so hot and tight and then the demon orgasms around him, setting off a cascade of rhythmic contractions that, in combination with the bullet train of lust and pleasure and triumph and affection that zips across the link and down Xiumin's spine, does indeed succeed in squeezing the orgasm out of him.  

"Ah,  _Chen_ ," Xiumin growls, extinguishing the second candle, doing his best to hold it steady enough for the wax to harden for as long as he can as his energy swirls out of him and into Chen.   But the incubus is indeed draining him hard, laughingly plucking the candle from Xiumin's suddenly-limp fingers as the human crumples over onto Chen's wax-encrusted torso.

"Fuck, you're getting so good at being mean," Chen chuckles, voice restored to a contented purr.

"All your fault," Xiumin huffs, wishing he could move enough to swipe the cooled wax from beneath his sweaty face.

"I know!" Chen gloats, gently tipping Xiumin off of him to sprawl bonelessly on the bedspread.  "I'm so fucking proud."

 

Something traces a chill line down Xiumin's bare pec, and he lifts a hand to brush it away.  Or at least he tries, but the limb only twitches, to weak to obey.

Strong fingers circle his wrist.  "Hold still, Minseokkie."  Lips brush his own and he manages to respond, still not really conscious but foolishly unconcerned because it's only Chen.  He drifts away again into dozy dreams, vaguely aware of his demon continuing to do weird demon shit to him that makes his skin twitch, not unpleasantly.

Another kiss rouses Xiumin just enough to cooperate as best he can as his familiar rolls him over, only to drift off again to the continuing sensations, now applied to his back.

A final kiss is pressed to the nape of Xiumin's neck, accompanied by an "I love you—I'll be back as soon as I can."

To which Xiumin merely mumbles "Don't fucking die," getting a chuckle in response.

"I'll always come back to you," his familiar promises, then allows Xiumin to drift fully off to sleep.

 

The hazy memory of that encounter is still drifting through the human's dreams when his alarm goes off several hours later, so Xiumin  _really_  shouldn't have been surprised at all when he drags himself out of bed and stumbles through his morning bathroom routine as usual, only to lift sleepy eyes to the mirror and notice the foreign writing scrawled across his chest in firm black strokes.  It's not English, but it uses most of the same letters, just with accents over a few of the vowels.  The same phrase is scrawled down both his forearms, and, sure enough, across his back.

Not nearly awake enough to deal with this shit, Xiumin just sighs and pulls on a pair of soft gray cotton lounge pants in case Taozi is alert enough to care about human nudity.  It takes him an embarrassingly-long time to force his sluggish limbs to cooperate, so he forgoes any further clothing in favor of stumbling half-blind toward the titanium goddess that holds his caffeine hostage.  He can't remember the last time Chen drained him so hard, and part of him suspects that the demon was attempting to leave him too floppy to leave the building without him.

But Xiumin immediately rejects his suspicion in a slide of guilt (and congratulates himself on the pants), because there are actually _two_ demons in his kitchen.  Granted, one of them is rather annoying and neither is as fierce as Chen, but his familiar has evidently arranged for Xiumin to have some compensatory assistance while he's gone.

Or the slimy invidius just let himself in again, one or the other.

Lu lifts doe-eyes away from the Siamese on his lap to double-take at Xiumin, ultimately snorting and rolling his eyes.  "Well,  _someone_  has some interesting body art this morning," he says.  "Goes perfectly with the threats I've been given about you and coffee, so you're on your own this morning... unless you beg."  Lu bounces a perfectly-arched brow.

"'M not," Xiumin defends, because as promised, there's a tablet leaning against the complicated machine.  He activates it and Chen's pre-recorded face appears on the screen, smiling indulgently.  His familiar's unusually-patient voice walks Xiumin through caffeinating himself in real time, complete with plenty of "wait" and "not yet" and "almost" and "okay, push it now" to make sure the human's morning impatience doesn't get the better of him.

Several agonizingly-long minutes later, Xiumin is smirking over the rim of his mug at the invidius who stops stroking Taozi like the supervillain he could easily be.  The coffee still isn't quite as good as when Chen makes it for him, but it's better than anything he'd otherwise be able to procure in a timely manner, and he slurps happily as Lu gives him around of applause.

"Well, then, I guess JD's obnoxiously-claiming messages aren't marring your delicious body in vain."

Xiumin glances down at the words running along the arm holding the mug.  "'M pretty sure it'll wash off eventually," he says with a shrug.  Of all the things that he could have woken up with—and has before—this isn't so bad.  "I don' mind it."

Lu snorts.  "That's only because you have no idea what it says."

Xiumin shrugs, lips too occupied with the coffee mug to reply.

"I suppose I could consider it an honor that he wrote my name all over you, but the phrase following is rather rude."

Xiumin knows he's supposed to care what Chen wrote on him, but now that he understands it's a message for the boundary-agnostic invidius, he doesn't have any interest in the particulars.  It's not even close to the most obnoxious territory-marking he's put up with from the possessive creature over the years.

At the human's blissful nonchalance, Lu scoffs.  "I'm surprised he didn't just pee on you."

"Does that, too," Xiumin admits, having long since normalized the behavior.  

But Lu has not, and his eyebrows are playing hide-and-seek among his fluffy fringe.  "And you let him?  You never let me so much as sit on the food-prep counter or leave a pair of socks on the floor when I lived here, but you let an incubus piss all over you?"

Xiumin shakes his head, finding more words in his cup along with the precious bitter brew.  "Not all over—just on my leg, and only in the shower.  It's just easier to pretend I don't notice than to argue with him about it."

Lu shakes his head.  "You really are the worst demonist.  You let your familiar have way too much power over you.  Hell, he basically owns _you_ , not the other way around."

Again, Xiumin shrugs.  "The silver barbel through the head of his dick says otherwise."

Lu looks down at Taozi, then back up at Xiumin.  "The fucking  _what?_ "

"Didn't you see it yesterday?" Xiumin asks.  

"I know he likes to whip it out and parade it around, but in general I try  _not_ to get an eyeful of JD's junk."

Xiumin smirks.  "Well, I made him get a piercing.  He hates it.  He can't take it out, though, because I want it there.  He doesn't get to leave permanent marks on me at all, so, a little piss or a bit of marker ink is all the tantrum he can throw."

The invidius stares at him, jaw dropped so far as to render his perfect face less than attractive.  "I take it back.  You are one twisted little fucker."

"I learned from the best," Xiumin acknowledges.  "I didn't realize you'd be here, so if you're done reading the love letter my perfect wife left for you, I'll just go pull a shirt on and we can get some work done."

"'Go at yourself sideways' is not what the Irish generally consider a loving sentiment, but considering the source, it could have been much worse, I suppose."

"My thoughts exactly when I woke up covered in foreign scribbles," Xiumin smiles.

 

An hour later, Xiumin is lounging in his office chair, sock-covered feet propped up on the surface of his desk beside his third cup of coffee as he taps away at one tablet with another larger one in his lap.  Lu is stretched out on his stomach on the sofa, poking away at his own tablet, and, thanks to another feeding session from Xiumin and a petting session from Lu, Taozi is hunkered on his sternum, swiping at another tablet with his paw and occasionally booping it with his nose.

Xiumin has to force himself not to watch the Siamese work, because it's too fucking cute and he'll never get any of his own work done if he keeps smiling stupidly at the adorable sight.

"I think I got something," Lu says.  "'Ms. Zhao is survived by her parents, owners of Zhao's Fine Jewelry...'"

"Are they local?" Xiumin asks, pulling his feet off the desk to lean forward.

"About thirty minutes away by train," Lu answers, reading out an address just as Tao meows insistently, batting his tablet gently in Xiumin's direction.

Xiumin leans over to pick it up.  "Mr. Wang, late patriarch of Imperial Gem Imports—great job, TaoTao!"  He snorts.  "Of course, they're in the opposite direction, but still—two solid leads.  And I've run background checks on all the employees of Zunjing funerary services, and they all check out except, of course, for the grave-digger, because it's important to be as creepy as possible when you're a corpse-impersonating weirdo."

"Corpse-impersonating  _demon_ , you mean," Lu corrects.  "I bet it's an ingluvies."

"A what now?" Xiumin asks, so pleased with their work that he doesn't even begrudge the demon's delayed answer and satisfied smirk as he feeds from Xiumin's desire for his knowledge.

"A demon of gluttony.  The Chinese call them 'hungry ghosts.'"

The Siamese hisses, arching his back and puffing up his tail.

"Not a  _real_  ghost, Taozi," Xiumin soothes.  "DaeDae says he's been on and off the mortal plane for over five millennia and has never seen a supposed ghost that wasn't actually a demon."

The Siamese mutters what Xiumin assumes are kitty curse words, but he settles back onto the floor, licking his shoulder casually to smooth the fluffed fur.

Xiumin returns his attention to the invidius.  "But wouldn't a glutton demon—did you call it a gluteus?"

" _In_ gluvies," Lu corrects.

"Whatever.  I'm sticking with gluteus—it's now an ass demon."

"No, that would be JD," Lu cackles.

Xiumin can't help but chuckle.  "You're not wrong, in either sense of the word.  Okay, we'll just stick with 'HG' so as not to ruffle TaoTao's pretty coat any further.  Wouldn't an HG just, well, eat the corpse, instead of impersonating it?"

"It probably does," Lu says after another gleeful pause.  "It's not like an ingluvies—sorry, an  _HG_ —to do anything besides slink around and devour shit, so something creepy as fuck is going on."

"Well, that sounds like just the kind of weird shit I'm here for," Xiumin says.  "Let's chat up the jewelers first.  If they admit that they're being burgled by their own dearly departed, and  _especially_  if they also used Zunjing's services, then we'll go shake down the creepy-ass grave digger."

After putting on his favorite I'm-a-professional-you-can-trust-me suit—gray pinstripe pants, a dark navy blazer, and even a blue-and-silver striped tie—they leave Taozi curled up on the guest bed and head out.  Lu infernally alters his attire to compliment Xiumin's as they exit the office, causing the human to shake his head at the demon's smirk.  

"So what happens if you hand me that blazer?" Xiumin asks as he holds the building door for Lu, feeling like indulging the demon's thirst in return for all his help.

"You have a blazer for a while," Lu shrugs, sauntering beside him down the street.  Then he grins.  "Until suddenly you have an old ratty windbreaker I picked up somewhere years ago.  I'm not a fucking genie.  I don't create shit out of thin air.  But I don't need to—all I need to feed is the illusion."  He winks at Xiumin.  "That's the secret of envy, you know.  Even when the envied isn't an invidius, what an observer finds enviable is often an illusion."

Xiumin snorts as they descend the stairs into the train station.  "That was fucking  _deep_  for the Master of the Shallow."

Lu's laughter echoes against the plascrete and steel.

 

Mr. Wang's heirs, a pair of smiling twins, stop smiling when Xiumin asks about a burglary.  

"What information do you have, and where did you get it?" the taller one asks, his threatening lean over the counter mirrored by his brother.

"Not much, and nothing about you or yours," Xiumin says, eyes wide and hands raised.  "I have a client, another jeweler, who has had security breaches, seemingly caused by a deceased member of his family.  I'm just asking around to make sure no one else's honored dead are being disrespected."

The twins exchange a glance.  "We haven't had break-ins," the shorter one says.  "But we have had some shipments of gems... intercepted.  The driver said that our dad called him in transit, telling him to re-route the shipment to a warehouse we don't even own.  Then he swears that Father himself met him there, rifled through the armored car, took gems worth less than five percent of the value of the shipment, and sent him on his way."

"But your father had already passed?" Lu asks.

"Yes," the taller one answers.  "We hadn't announced it yet—our lawyers advised against it until the business was already restructured and secure under our names to avoid shareholder panic, so no one outside the family knew.  It was out of character, of course, but he's a loyal employee.  He had no reason not to follow the boss's personal instructions."

"What was taken?" Xiumin asks.

Another silent conversation passes between the twins.  "We're not supposed to talk about it—the insurance company, the cops—"

"Was it sapphires?" Lu asks.  "Cheap, ugly, square ones?"

They exchange another look, and that's all Xiumin needs.  "I don't want to get you gentlemen in trouble," he says.  "I'm not here to interfere with law enforcement, and  _definitely_  not with insurance lawyers."  He smiles, and the twins smile again, relief and gratitude evident on their matching faces.

"But if it's not too much to ask," he continues.  "Could you give me the name of the funeral home that helped you lay your honored father to rest?"

"We're happy to recommend them," the taller twin says.  "Zunjing did a wonderful job.  Very proper, exceedingly respectful."

Now it's Lu and Xiumin's turn to have a silent conversation.

 

The Zhaos are still fresh in their guilt, their daughter having passed away only a month ago.  When Xiumin introduces himself and explains why he's there, he suddenly finds himself with an armful of sobbing, distraught mother.

"My baby girl was a good daughter," she snivels against Xiumin's chest as he gently pats her shoulder.  "She has no reason for vengeance against us."

Xiumin tilts his head over the tiny woman's shoulder at her silently-teary husband.  "Against you?" he asks.  "Does that mean you think she'd have one against someone else?"

"Well, of course," Mr. Zhao says.  "That is, the cops haven't caught whoever killed her."

Lu catches Xiumin's eye.  It's turning out to be quite the day for silent conversations.

 

But the next conversation Xiumin has is quite loud, as are most he has with his dear Chenny-Chenny.

"Minseokkie, I'm home and you're not!" the incubus shouts through the phone.  

"Good," Xiumin says, holding the speaker away from his ear.  "You can be a good little housewife and make me some dinner.  Your man has worked hard today and needs a good supper."

"I refuse to grow a vagina so you can keep me barefoot and pregnant," Chen sneers.  "But I did bring home the bacon.  Or rather, the pork.  You want it sweet or spicy?"

Xiumin grins into his phone, hearing the question for the come-on that it is.  

"Why not both?" he purrs.

Lu pretends to retch on the train beside him.

 

The pork is fabulous, just as almost everything Chen makes for him is.  As he chews, he and Lu—now  _firmly_  entrenched in the PI game, to the point where he's wearing a long duster and a trilby hat even though they're just sitting in the kitchen—recount the day's adventures.  Taozi's perched on Chen's knee, and he's giving the much-healthier-looking Siamese long strokes from scalp to spine.  Xiumin makes sure to play up the imp's role in the research, throwing plenty of complements on his looks on top of the ones about his brains.

"So all three jewelers are missing cheap square sapphires, all were burgled by doppelgangers for dead loved ones, all funerals were run by Zunjing, and—I called the twins and Mr. Liu to ask—all three were murdered by an unknown perp," Xiumin concludes, popping another sweet-and-spicy pork nugget in his mouth.

"And I'll bet you a week's worth of Inspector Minseokkie's delicious envy that the gravedigger for Zunjing is an ingluvies," Lu crows.

"No deal," Chen scoffs.  "I know you just come up in here and take what you want, anyway."

Lu grins.  "It's like heroin or something."

"I fucking know," Chen moans.  "I feel like the slimiest pimp, between you and Taozi."

Xiumin glares at his familiar, jabbing at him with his chopsticks.  "Hey, I'm a strong independent whore who don't need no pimp," he informs the demon he adores.  "I'm selling out for  _my_  benefit, not yours."

"Well, Gigolo, I still profit from you being kept alive, so thanks for that at least.  Tao says he wants to try changing after you feed him tonight.  He's tired of being left behind while you traipse around the city scaring up ghosts—ah,  _fuck_ , Taozi, your fucking claws!"  Chen jumps up, tumbling the disgruntled Siamese from his lap to press his hands against his inner thigh.  "I keep telling you ghosts aren't fucking real, you paranoid delusional!"

Chen lifts his hand away to hiss at the droplets of blood seeping through the lounge pants Lu insisted he wear, then points those lethal lashes at Xiumin.  "Minseokkie, I need you to kiss it and make it better," he pouts.

Xiumin snorts.  "I dunno, ChenChen, you drained me pretty hard last night.  Surely you can stand to let a few scratches heal on their own."

The pouting intensifies.  "But there's blood!" he whines.  "I  _hate_  bleeding."

"Oh, really?" Xiumin smirks, tilting his head mischievously at his familiar.  "Who was it that was trying to get me to cut him up while I fucked him last week?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Lu grimaces.  "I'm down with kinky, but that's some serial-killer shit."

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Chen smirks back, bloody pants entirely forgotten as he leers at his frenemy.

"Yeah?" Lu leans closer to Xiumin.  "Gonna let me try it with your handsome little human?"  He reaches out to caress Xiumin's thigh, only to yelp and shake his electrocuted hand.

"Paws off the merchandise," Xiumin says around another mouthful of pork.  "I'm not  _that_  kind of whore."

 

Tao does manage to transform after another petting-and-praise session, making Xiumin glad they packed up all of the imp's oversized clothing and brought it with them from Korea.  Chen gets him dressed in a pair of soft black lounge pants and a ribbed gray A-shirt, and Xiumin tucks the catboy into the guest bed—careful not to touch him, of course.  Tao is weepy and clingy, and even though Xiumin feels entirely inadequate as a comforter, he asks the human to sit with him for a bit, just until he falls asleep.  Xiumin doesn't hesitate to agree, parking himself on the floor and leaning up against the wall opposite the bed and hoping his presence is enough to protect the big strong demon from the ghosts in his own head.

The imp might be healthy enough to transform but he's still weak, so he falls asleep after only a few minutes.  Xiumin is about to slip quietly away when an agonizing sound freezes all the warmth in his veins.  The poor imp is sobbing in his sleep, calling out for the lover he'll never see again, and the human cannot deal.

He bolts for the hallway, relieved to see his familiar lurking just outside the room like the jealous lover he is.

"He's crying for Sehun," Xiumin says, closing the door softly behind him.  "You knew him well enough, didn't you?"

Chen blinks at him twice before he realizes what Xiumin is asking.  "Oh, no fucking way."

"Please, Chenny—just go in there and talk to him.  Use Sehun's voice to tell him he's loved and handsome and thoughtful, tell him he took good care of his lover, tell him what a perfect boyfriend he was.  You wanted him well, so go heal him."

"It won't work," Chen says.  "He'll know it's not Sehun.  And I won't be able to actually feed him, even if he did buy the act."

"He said he was full already," Xiumin reminds him.  "You're not feeding his body, you're feeding his broken heart.  Just go soothe him, let him hold his lover one last time and cry on you.  I can't cuddle him or I would."

"You're going to owe me for this," Chen warns, but he does so in Sehun's voice with Sehun's lips. 

He's chosen to mimic a young Sehun, probably about the age he was when he first met Taozi, and the sight squeezes Xiumin's heart so hard.  He nods at his familiar, confirming whatever debt the incubus wants to take out of his hide later.  Letting the demon have his way is rarely anything but ecstatic for Xiumin in the end, even if it's usually a fucking frustrating journey to get there.

"Sehun" enters the guest bedroom, and a moment later, Taozi wails.  Xiumin almost expects Chen to dart right back out, but he doesn't.  He's in there for about half an hour, and Tao's sobs eventually quiet as Xiumin paces like an expectant father in ancient movies.  When Chen finally comes back out, he looks like himself again, shrugging in response to Xiumin's inquisitive eyebrow.

"He's sleeping," Chen says quietly. 

Xiumin crosses over to him, wrapping him into a hug.  "I heard a lot of crying.  Do you think it helped or made it worse?"

"It was really fucking awkward," Chen whines, using Xiumin's arms around him to pull him toward their bedroom.  "It's super weird to cuddle anyone that isn't you, and it's super weird to be that tall.  He absolutely knew it wasn't actually Sehun, but he sobbed all over me anyway while I did my best to manage both of our too-long limbs.  But... I do think it helped.  He apologized a lot, and I just told him there was nothing to forgive and that I loved him and having him with me my whole life was the best gift anyone could have."

Xiumin lets Chen pull him down into the bed and press close against him.  He wraps both arms more tightly around Chen's body, kissing away tears from prominent cheekbones, from too-long lashes.

"You did well," he assures his familiar.  "Thank you for doing that.  I'm sure it sucked."

"Fucking don't ever leave me, Minseokkie," Chen growls.

"I will do my absolute best to be right beside you forever," Xiumin assures his love.

Neither of them speak for long minutes.  They just squeeze each other uncomfortably tight, listening to each other breathe, feeling each other's pulse.  The link is roiling with pain, and Xiumin eventually speaks just to distract both of them.

"Why aren't you tall?" he asks, curious about his familiar's comments earlier.  "I mean, you could be all the time, right?  But you prefer this form."

"I  _was_  tall," Chen answers.  "When I first started being summoned, the average height in the world was the equivalent of about 165 centimeters.  Being 173 centimeters was tall enough to be intimidating without being freakishly large.  And people summoned demons to do physical labor or to fight for them or to otherwise be a body where they didn't want to personally be.  To be good at not dying and ending up back in the abyss, I needed to be comfortable in my body, so I kept this one unless instructed otherwise.  I don't lose fights because my muscle memory is being used on the same muscles for millennia.  I never have to re-calculate the way my body works, it just does."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't change," Xiumin says, rolling so that he pins his familiar to the bed.  "You're the perfect height for me.  We can just stay perfect together—fuck the world if it wants to keep getting taller."

Chen laughs, the amusement bouncing Xiumin on top of him.  "We're only a few centimeters shy of average currently.  I can't wait to find out if humans keep increasing in size—what if someday we're the size of children?"

"Then we're going to freak a lot of people out when we dress in brightly-colored overalls and make out in public."

Chen guffaws, rolling them both onto their sides.  "Oh man, we're going to be like perverted oompa-loompas."

"Less orange, hopefully," Xiumin agrees around a chuckle.  "And with better eyebrows."

"You'd look cute with green hair, though, Minseokkie.  Maybe we can try that next."

"If that would make you happy," Xiumin says, long since resigned to sacrificing his dignity for his familiar's amusement.

"It would make me happy to be inside you right now," Chen says, voice dropping from amused to hungry.

"I figured," Xiumin sighs, though they both know the protest is just for show.  Chen will take any opportunity to top, while Xiumin doesn't feel the need to constantly assert his dominance.  He doesn't need to—Chen can only top if Xiumin lets him, while Xiumin gets to use Chen's body however he likes.  But while Xiumin occasionally enjoys exerting his power over his familiar, he wants a lover, not a slave, and he doesn't mind giving the proud incubus the frequent illusion that he's in control.

But Chen is always nudging at the human's boundaries, always trying to get him to allow more, more, more.  Especially whenever Xiumin forces his demon to do something distasteful, the demon tends to want Xiumin shoved out of his comfort zone as well.

So when Chen pulls him close, caresses his ass, and murmurs "Let me put my fist in you," Xiumin supposes he really shouldn't be surprised.

"Chenny, I like being able to close my ass," he objects.

"Minseokkie, you are an athlete," Chen chides.  "You work out all the fucking time.  Now you want to tell me that careful stretching of a muscle beyond what it's used to is going to damage it?"

Xiumin frowns.  How dare his familiar use logic against him.  

"I'm not just going to jam it up there," Chen laughs at whatever face the human is making.  "You know I'd never hurt you.  I'll know if you're feeling stretched or feeling pain.  I won't let you hurt."

"I'll be sore," Xiumin complains.

"You're sore after you work out sometimes," Chen points out.  "You still do it again a few days later."

"Why are you not a lawyer?" Xiumin whines to more demonic laughter.  

"We'll work up to it, like good athletes," Chen assures him.  "Wanna fuck you now, Minseokkie.  Wanna slide an extra finger inside you when I do."

Fucking shameless negotiator of an incubus.  "Fine, an extra finger.  But if we work our way up to your fist—not tonight, but maybe someday—and it doesn't feel fucking amazing, I'm breaking up with you."

"You would never," Chen laughs between peppering the human's mouth with kisses that Xiumin stubbornly refuses to respond to.  "You fucking love me way too much.  But it _will_ feel amazing.  I will always take care of you."

"You fucking better," Xiumin growls, finally moving his lips against Chen's.

"You know I will," Chen says.  "So I'm just gonna feed a little tonight, and I'll be right there with you all day tomorrow."  His hands are busy removing Xiumin's clothing.  "You're fucking  _mine_ , I'm fucking keeping you, you belong always to me."

"That's right," Xiumin moans as Chen's clever fingers wrap around his cock.  "You and me, forever."

Chen growls low at his human's breathy declaration, hot mouth descending onto his cock, one palm pressed warm against Xiumin's lower abs and slick fingers already probing between his legs.  Xiumin can feel Chen's hunger—the demon must have burned quite a bit of energy today, despite his assurances before dinner that taking down the hidden lanius was easy.  He hadn't lied, of course, Xiumin would have known.  But now it's apparent that it was easy because Chen used all that energy Xiumin fed him last night.

Still, tonight the demon is cutting to the chase, working him open slowly and thoroughly as he always does, keeping him on edge with the lips and tongue sliding up and down his cock.  He's not teasing Xiumin, isn't drawing things out, isn't lighting the human's nerve endings up with anything but steady, building pleasure.

Two fingers pet Xiumin's prostate firmly, soon joined by a third.  Then Chen adds more lube and introduces a fourth finger, something outside his usual human-prepping routine.  Xiumin winces a bit as the digits are pushed in, slowly but further than usual, then again when Chen turns his wrist to pivot them, taking the stretch from horizontal to vertical.

"Fuck, Chen," Xiumin pants, unsure if he's enjoying the sensation.

"Relax, Minseokkie," Chen pulls his mouth off Xiumin's cock to murmur.  "Don't let your tension cause your body to interpret a neutral sensation as pain.  Being stretched open has always been the prelude to pleasure before, right, my little princeling?"

Xiumin nods, letting Chen's smile melt his heart and his resistance.

"Focus on that thought, my sweet little steamed bun."

Xiumin tries, playing in his head the many times his incubus has made him come hard enough to hit himself in the face with his own jizz.  Chen's about to wreck him, Xiumin is sure.  But he's just as sure that Chen will never _break_ him.

"That's it, Minseokkie," Chen praises as the human relaxes around him.  He twists his wrist again, which still feels weird but doesn't exactly hurt, and pride and affection heat the link at the human's lack of adverse reaction.

"You're gonna look so fucking hot when you come on my fist," Chen growls, but he pulls all his fingers out of Xiumin except for one, curving his index finger to tug at Xiumin's rim.

"Ready, Cupcake?" he asks Xiumin with a wicked smile.

"Ready, Kitten," Xiumin smirks back, and then Chen's slick cock is sliding into him, that single finger still gently pulling at the ring of muscle.

Xiumin feels his back try to arch but Chen's hand flat against his abs presses him back against the mattress.  "Relax, Minseokkie," Chen says again, and Xiumin tries but Chen is already so  _thick_ , has always been a lot to take, and now that extra centimeter or two of stretch is a bit much for comfort.

But Chen is still as Xiumin pants, the demon's cock with only the head pushed inside, and that single finger, first knuckle bent around Xiumin's rim.   _It's just a stretch,_  Xiumin reminds himself.  _You're not hurt, you're just tense._

Chen is feeding him fondness and desire over the link and it helps Xiumin talk himself out of  clenching around the intrusion, and soon the incubus is pushing further inside him, pulling a moan from the human's throat.  It's just an extra finger but Chen keeps moving it around, tugging against the rim, sliding around his cock.  Nerve endings light up with sensation, and when Chen is finally buried fully inside his human, he stops moving his cock entirely in favor of using that finger to play along the edge of Xiumin's hole.

"Fuck, Chenny," Xiumin gasps, trying to remind himself that  _strange_  isn't necessarily  _bad_ , that _stretch_  isn't always  _pain._

It helps when Chen uses his other hand to stroke Xiumin's cock, palm warm and slick.  Minseok's panting is interrupted by a moan, and then another, and then a hitching wail when that extra finger tugs the rim as it traces it around Chen's cock.

"Touch yourself so I can fuck you, Minseokkie," Chen commands, and Xiumin obediently lifts his own hand to wrap around his cock.

Now able to hold Xiumin's thigh for leverage, Chen rocks forward and pulls out, thrusts in and drags back, all the while twitching that extra finger so Xiumin can't possibly forget it's there.  Chen is watching himself slide in and out of Xiumin's over-stretched hole and the arousal this generates sweeps over Xiumin like a white-hot wave, aiding his hand in tugging his climax from his body.

Xiumin's yell of satisfaction is quickly followed by Chen's own, but as promised, only a little of Xiumin's energy is siphoned away by the still-hungry demon.  It's still enough to hurtle Xiumin rapidly toward sleep, but not enough to send him there before Chen cleans them up and slides back into bed with him.

He even has enough energy left to flip over onto his stomach and pin his purring winged catboy to the bed with one limp arm, pressing his face against the demon's cinnamon-scented skin.

He's only half asleep when the door to the bedroom clicks open.

"What's the matter, Taozi?" Chen murmurs from beneath Xiumin's arm.

"I'm so lonely by myself," the imp almost whispers.

Chen sighs, but Xiumin is already fish-flopping himself closer to his edge of the mattress, arm dragging Chen along with him.  It's a king-sized bed, after all—there's no reason why they can't all fit, especially since he's practically lying on top of his familiar.

"Be careful not to touch him," Chen growls.

"I know," Taozi sighs.

The bed dips, the blankets shift, and Xiumin smiles fondly against Chen's neck as he drifts off to the hushed tones of mostly-whispered demonic bickering.


	4. Cathering Infurmation

Private Investigator Jin Xiumin might not be the most romantic guy that ever lived, but being woken up by his darling demon with kisses and coffee will forever be his favorite way to start the day.  If he ever had to justify his preference, he'd cite the perfectly-made caffeinated beverage and the up-turned lips that know exactly how to massage Xiumin's mouth in a way that always leaves him hungry for more, no matter how often he swallows his familiar's smile.

He probably wouldn't mention the relief and contentment and heavy sense of  _rightness_  that fills his chest as his sleepy brain comes to the realization that Chen is with him—the aroma of coffee underlaid with the demon's cinnamon scent, his throaty murmur calling the human one of his many lovingly-insulting nicknames, the taste of Chen's fond chuckle against Xiumin's lips, the solid feel of that so-familiar body against him, all before he even opens his eyes—the flood of  _yes_  that feels like sunlight is filling his entire body because his Chenny-Chenny is alive, whole, breathing, laughing, and generally being a pain in Xiumin's ass.

The embarrassing amount of love Xiumin has for his perfect wife would be easier to deny if the link didn't immediately betray his squishy feelings to his darling demon.  But there is more than a little satisfaction in feeling similar deep affection, terminal fondness, and unbounded love thumping back across the link in rhythm with Chen's steady heartbeat.

Xiumin wraps his arms tighter around the incubus on top of him, darting his tongue into a mouth that never seems to have morning breath, which is exceedingly unfair considering the filthy places the demon likes to put his tongue.  He hums a good morning into the kiss, lets a hand slide down the warm leather of Chen's wings to cup a perfectly-perky asscheek.

There's a very feline sound of disgust from beside him, then the sound of what's possibly a bowling ball hitting the hardwood on four padded feet.  Over Chen's shoulder, Xiumin can see the top of the bedroom door sway as something tromps down the hall, muttering kitty curses beneath a hissing breath.

"That wasn't very nice," Xiumin chides, much less firmly than he might if Chen weren't currently grinding against his morning erection in a way that makes the human rather reluctant to do or say anything that might induce the delicious friction to stop.

"He was watching you sleep.  It was creepy.  You're welcome for saving you from that."  Chen presses down a little harder against Xiumin's blanket-covered groin, but not quite hard enough to provide proper relief, the fucking tease.

"Isn't that the whole point of healing him up?  So he can baby-sit me for you?"  Xiumin pulls Chen's pelvis down to meet his upward thrust.  

This earns a wordless yet very expressive whine, which along with the link betrays Chen's fear, resignation, concern, guilt, and burning, burning jealousy.

"You'll always be my favorite," Xiumin laughs.  "We're linked.  You can't possibly doubt your place in my heart."

"You're  _mine_ ," Chen growls, tail thrashing indignantly, before throwing back the blankets and filling a palm with lube.  

Xiumin rolls his eyes but welcomes the body on top of him, the slick hand around his cock, the aggressive ownership of his mouth.  He just lies there and accepts the pleasure Chen gives him, pitching his appreciative moans soft and low, just for his familiar's ears.  He lets his possessive demon tug his orgasm out of him, lets him swallow Xiumin's groan of pleasure, lets him catch all of the human's spend in a slippery fist.

"Want some creamer in your coffee, Minseokkie?" the lewd demon asks, laughing at Xiumin's expression of revulsion.

"Just eat it, you pervert," Xiumin sneers.  "I'd hate to deprive you of your breakfast of champions."

Chen is already cleaning his hand off with his tongue like the filthy degenerate he is.  Xiumin tries to ignore the slurping and concentrate on his own breakfast of champions, inhaling the coffee's stimulating aroma before taking that first crema-laden sip.  He will never understand the demon's freaky desires.  He's perfectly content to feel the connection with his familiar deep in his chest, that constant, steady thrum that affirms that Chen is his.  The connection goes both ways, of course, so the over-the-top displays of ownership must just be a demon thing.  Or perhaps just a Chen thing, since even other demons seem to think his behavior a bit much.

And today, Xiumin himself finds his familiar's clinginess a bit much, attempting to assert that he can dress himself even as Chen pins him down to pull his socks on, sticking the furry tip of his feline tail in Xiumin's mouth if he dares open it to protest, making the human sputter and spit out sleek black hairs.

"The fuck is your deal today?" Xiumin finally yells when the demon tries to brush his teeth for him.

"You're mine," Chen says.  "You're mine and  _I_  take care of you."

"You are surprisingly insecure for a badass demon," Xiumin informs him, snatching his toothbrush out of the pouting creature's clutches.  He brushes, spits, and rinses all while the link feeds him his familiar's guilt.

"Look," Xiumin finally says.  "When we lived in Seoul, I had that company car, remember?"

Chen nods, guilt now tainted by confusion.

"So, I had to take really good care of it, right?  I signed papers saying I would.  And I could have changed the oil myself, but I took it to a garage.  I let someone else do some of the grunt work, but because I orchestrated it, I was still the one that was ultimately responsible for the good condition of the car, okay?"

Chen nods very slowly, but the link is still a tangle.

Xiumin sighs.  "Chenny, nobody would have ever thought that the mechanic who changed the oil owned the car.  And that mechanic just worked under the hood, right?  He didn't polish the car or fill it with gas or make sure it was parked somewhere safe.  I still did all that stuff, even if I didn't refine the gasoline or build the parking structure.  It was mine and I took good care of it, even if I didn't personally do every single minute task."

Chen blinks at him for a moment, then Xiumin has the very rare pleasure of seeing the demon's eyes cut to the side and his cheeks go pink as self-censure trickles down the link.  "Your car didn't go off without you, though," he pouts.

"Yes, it did.  You'd drive it without even telling me."

"But I'm your familiar and I was doing things on your behalf.  I was just acting as an extension of the car's owner."

"Okay," Xiumin nods.  "So, you're mine, because I found a stray cat in a flat whose owner had died, right?"

Chen nods dubiously, cautious of the smugness Xiumin knows he's leaking down the link.

He grins as he springs the trap.  "So, who was it that told me we had to go to Seoul to pick up a certain Siamese whose life partner had passed away?  Who booked the tickets, made all the arrangements, marched into that sad, empty apartment, and scooped up the owner-less cat?"

Chen scowls.  "A cat can't own another cat," he protests.

Xiumin just shakes his head.  "You can't give me that.  Cats have kittens, they're protective of them, they own those babies.  They sometimes adopt abandoned kittens or even ducklings, so don't try to tell me you aren't Tao's family.  He's younger than you, you look out for him, he's your little kitten-duckling.  Your kit-ling."

The link is practically tied in knots from the demon's internal conflict, and his face is just as twisted.  "That doesn't count," he says.

"It sure does.  Nobody made you, it was never in any of your contracts, you just took him under your big batty wing.  Now he's yours, and we're stuck with him—not that I mind—so use him as an extension of your own agency, stop feeling guilty about it, and get out of my bathroom.  I promise I can wipe my own ass."  Xiumin crosses his arms over his chest.

Chen's stricken face breaks into laughter.  "If you say so, Minseokkie—you know I'm gonna lick it for you later, anyway."

Xiumin shoves the disgusting creature out into the bedroom and shuts the bathroom door.  "Ugh, why do I love you?" he grumbles through the sturdy wood.

"Maybe because I'm really good at rimjobs?"

"Just go away."

The demon's laughter is obnoxious, but at least the link has relaxed enough that Xiumin no longer feels second-hand heartburn from his familiar's churning distress.  Xiumin accepts it as a marginal win.

 

When he emerges into the kitchen, Xiumin finds a big bowl of tofu pudding waiting for him on the breakfast table beside another steaming cup of coffee.

He also finds not just one disgruntled demon, but three.

They're all scowling at each other, the tension between them thick and dangerous.

Xiumin shakes his head with a sigh, then just sits down at the table and eats his breakfast.  He definitely needs protein and more caffeine before he can resolve any more infernal tantrums.

The room is silent as he chews and sips and swallows, and when he's done, he sits back in his chair, resting his half-full coffee mug on his knee with a hum of amused resignation.  Looks like it's up to the human to be the Adult™ as usual.

Which means he's going to have a bit of childish fun.

"Good morning, Taozi," he chirps.  "I hope you rested well with us, despite the rudeness of my uncouth familiar earlier.  That shirt is a good color on you, by the way, and it emphasizes your shoulders nicely."  He smiles at the imp, then takes another sip of his coffee.

The drawn-out slurping sound might as well have been a torch to a powder keg.

The room erupts in noise, Chen simultaneously arguing with Taozi in Mandarin and with Lu in some musical, lilting tongue that, based on the body graffiti his familiar had left for Lu yesterday, Xiumin is going to guess is something Irish.  Tao looks back and forth as Lu and Chen snarl at each other, then starts shouting insults at Lu in English.  Lu fires obscenities right back.

Xiumin stands up and takes his cup of coffee out to the office.  He only speaks one and a half of the languages in play, and moreover, he doesn't really care what the fuck they're on about.  From the bits he understood, it's some sort of demonic posturing and dick-measuring, and Xiumin is  _not_  in a hurry to get involved.  

Instead, he pulls on his favorite over-ear headphones, pulls up a playlist of peppy, mindless pop music, and gets to work.  Weird Shit doesn't solve itself, after all.

 

 

Half an hour later, a triumphant Chen marches into the office with a big black bird on his shoulder, trailed by a sullen imp.  "It's all settled now, Minseokkie!" Chen beams as Xiumin pulls the headphones off one ear.  The demon saunters over, steals a kiss, then hops over Samtaro to grab his long black coat from the rack.  The bird squawks indignantly, fluttering up into the air as Chen pulls the coat on, then settles again onto the incubus's shoulder, pecking at Chen's head with its long white beak and making the incubus duck and curse.

"Chill the fuck out, Lu," Chen complains, then buckles on the wakizashi before taking something else out of the umbrella stand he irreverently keeps the sheathed short sword in.  He tosses it to Taozi, who easily catches the half-meter long cylinder, thick enough to fill his fist.

"It's titanium, with silver-shod ends," Chen explains.  "The thumb buttons extend it—"

With a snap, the cylinder suddenly telescopes out to four times its original length, each end tapering slightly out from the middle.

"—And then you twist the center ring to retract it," Chen finishes.

Taozi obediently rotates the textured metal in the middle of the brushed titanium length, and the ends gently collapse back into the center section.

"Will that do?" Chen asks the imp, who nods behind a grin.

"Good, 'cause anything bad that happens to him is going to happen to you."

Taozi's smile twists into a scowl, but Chen has already turned to his human, making the bird-shaped invidius on his shoulder flutter to keep his perch.  The pair of them look like something out of a thriller, with the long black coat, hard eyes, shiny blade, wicked white beak.  All they need is lightning flashing behind them to give nightmares to children.

"We're going hunting, Minseokkie.  Lu's going to be my second set of eyes, so nobody's going to get the drop on us.  We'll be careful and get back in time to make you dinner."  

Chen gestures to the imp playing with his new staff.  "Taozi's gonna watch your back, so you have to listen to him and let him keep you safe.  He's not bound to obey you like I am, so you're not going to be able to talk him into letting you endanger yourself."

Xiumin rolls his eyes at how smug the incubus looks about this.

But he responds when Chen tugs him up from his desk and steals another kiss.  "Be good while Daddy's at work," Chen coos, chucking Xiumin under the chin.

"I am never calling you that," Xiumin answers, punching Chen in the gut.  "Stay safe, asshole."

Chen leans in for another kiss.  "You too, my cupcake prince— _ow fuck_ okay, Lu, stop pecking me!"

 

By the time Xiumin has made a tidy list, mapped out his plan of inquiry, and made an appointment with the man he needs to see, Taozi has become quite familiar with his new collapsible toy, jumping around and whacking imaginary foes in the lobby of their building.

"So, ChenChen gave you a present?" Xiumin asks, leaning against the doorframe to watch Taozi work.

"DaeDae has decided that I'm his car or something, and giving me a wushu stick is like an oil change or some shit."  The tall imp shrugs.  "At least I think that's what he said.  He mixes his languages together when he's all worked up; it makes him really hard to understand."

Xiumin laughs.  "No, that's probably what he said.  I'm just glad he's made his peace with asking for help."

Tao smiles.  "It'll be much easier to help with this fancy-ass stick.  But can I have a fancy-ass coat to go with it?  He and Lu looked like something straight out of one of Hunnie's video games this morning."  The imp grins, then his face falls a little, and Xiumin wishes he could hug the poor guy.

Xiumin offers Taozi a little smile.  He may not be able to touch the imp, but he can still cheer him up.  He has a fuckton of money, if Tao wants fancy-ass clothes, then it's time to splash out.  "You know what?  Sure.  Let's both get fancy-ass coats.  We'll get an actual duster for Lu, too, while we're at it.  And what the hell—how about some snazzy hats?"

"I would rock the fuck out of a snazzy hat," Tao declares.

"Then a snazzy hat you shall have, my tall and handsome friend."

 

Shopping with Taozi turns out to be both easier and harder than trying to navigate fashion on his own.  The imp has very definite ideas, and they do not always align with Xiumin's definition of comfort.

"A plain black snapback does not count as snazzy," Tao informs him, pointing forcefully at the display for Xiumin to put the casual hat back, as if he were a child caught with a cookie before dinner.

Xiumin clutches the illicit headwear to his chest.  "Shut up, I like snapbacks.  I'll wear it backwards; now it's plenty snazzy, okay?"

"Just no.  I have to stand next to you in front of people all day."

There's a lot of grumbling and more than a few coarse words exchanged, but eventually the pair are properly outfitted (if reluctantly snapback-free on Xiumin's part).  Full of upgraded swagger, Xiumin and Taozi head uptown to question Zunjing's funeral director.

 

Zunjing Funerary Services has a large, tasteful modern building with a convenient underground parking structure, perfect for offering their visitors valet parking in the expensive city, and no doubt also great for loading and unloading bodies in privacy.  Taking his bodyguard duties seriously even though they don't have a car to park, Tao inspects the underground area thoroughly before allowing Xiumin to press the button to call the elevator.  Then once inside the shiny steel box, he insists on standing between the human and the elevator door, collapsible staff held discretely up a sleeve but ready to be deployed at the slightest indication of trouble.

Xiumin suppresses all his sighs and eye rolls.  He can sacrifice some dignity to maintain his autonomy while appeasing his familiar and giving the imp a new purpose in life.  And in truth, he only  _feel_ _s_  ridiculous—thanks to the imp's keen eye for fashion, Xiumin looks pretty damn good in a black leather bomber jacket and a cap which Tao called a "newsboy" that's basically a snapback except poofier and more fashion-y and therefore imp-approved.  And being escorted by Tao, in his military-inspired high-collared double-breasted trench coat, aviator shades, and thin-brimmed, low crowned hat, all in black, probably grants Xiumin more I'm-a-professional-take-me-seriously credence than he'd have on his own in this high-income area.

 And indeed, when they arrive in the elegant lobby done in tasteful white and gold, Tao marches himself up to the reception desk and announces Xiumin to see Mr Hsiao, the most recent in a long line of Hsiaos that have been running Zunjing for generations.  The receptionist doesn't even bat an eye, just glances at Tao and then Xiumin before lifting the receiver of her phone and pressing several buttons on the keypad.  Xiumin is too far away to catch what she murmurs before she hangs up, but a moment later, the phone rings with a muted trill.  The receptionist answers, listens, agrees, hangs up, and then gives Tao directions as to which office to escort Xiumin to.

Having his "staff" deal with other service personnel makes Xiumin exceedingly uncomfortable, but it's evidently expected in this arena.  So he tries to play the role, letting Tao feed him obsequious bows and lead him away through a warren of offices to meet Mr. Hsiao. 

 

Ensconced in the sort of wood-paneled office that screams "old money," Mr. Hsiao is younger than Xiumin expected, but predictably compensating for his youth with facial hair and a staid suit.  They exchange pleasantries, bows, and handshakes before Mr. Hsiao seats himself behind his big mahogany desk.

"Now then, Mr. Jin, whose services are we planning today?"  He gives Xiumin a toothy smile, leaning forward over the desk.

"Hopefully no one's," Xiumin answers.  "We're actually here to talk to you about one of your employees, a Mr. Loh?"

Mr. Hsiao's face goes white.  "The gravedigger?  What about him?"

"We've had several reports of incidents involving bodies handled by Zunjing, and of your employees, he's the one whose background check raised red flags."

"I-it did?"

"Yes," Xiumin nods, playing it straight even though it's already obvious that the man knows something.  "Specifically the fact that Mr. Loh doesn't seem to  _have_  a background."

"Oh."  Xiumin can practically see the wheels in Mr. Hsiao's head turn as he struggles to come up with an explanation.  "Well.  He's an ex-con.  We're trying to give him a second chance in society, you know, let him prove himself, and he's been very hard-working—"

"I bet," Xiumin snorts.  "In fact, I'm sure work is its own reward for Mr. Loh.  You don't even have to pay him, do you?  Just look the other way when a body occasionally disappears."

Mr. Hsiao sets his jaw, but doesn't say anything, so Xiumin presses the attack.

"You can't tell me you don't know he's responsible.  I mean, didn't he show up out of nowhere, just after the Hungry Ghost Festival?"

"Look, I don't know who you are, but I don't like what you're implying.  Mr. Loh—"

"Is unnatural and defiling the honored dead, and we'd like to have a little chat with him before sending him back where he belongs," Xiumin finishes, smiling politely at the sweating man across from him.

At this, Mr. Hsiao panics, waving his hands at Xiumin.  "You can't!" he wails.  "I know I never should have let him stay, but he's gross and terrifying and it seemed easier to just do what they wanted, let him take care of bodies where an eco-friendly option had been selected, you know, ashes scattered beneath trees and the like.  I didn't see the harm, I mean, the families wouldn't have a grave to visit, anyway, and—"

"Except it wasn't just the eco-friendly options, was it?  The remains of the dearly deceased of some very wealthy clients have gone missing, haven't they?" Xiumin asks, leaning forward over the desk as Mr. Hsiao retreats.

The man is near tears.  "I didn't want this to happen," Mr. Hsiao sniffles.  "This has been a respectable establishment for centuries—we take great pains to honor the deceased!  But they threatened me!  My business, my family!"

Xiumin cocks his head.  "They?" he asks.

"Yes, you know.  The... The ones that made me hire Mr. Loh." 

"Do you know who 'they' are?" Xiumin prods.

Mr. Hsiao nods, glancing at the door, then back to Xiumin.  "Look, I don't know who's complaining about Mr. Loh, but if anything happens to him, they'll just make me hire someone else like him.  I'd refuse, but I have a wife!  Little ones!  Please, Mr. Jin—have mercy on me.  I want to be a man of principles, but I can't risk my babies."

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, Mr. Hsiao."  Xiumin lifts his hands in appeasement.  "I don't want to bring any danger to you or yours.  I'll tell you what.  There are scarier things out there than Mr. Loh.  He probably stays at the cemetery, right?"

Mr. Hsiao nods again.

"Okay, well, you probably have surveillance there, right?  To prevent vandalism?"

Another nod.

"So, if something scary shows up and puts an end to the fiend, well, that can hardly be your fault.  Especially if you report the loss to 'them' like the responsible man you are."

Mr. Hsiao tentatively nods again.

"And if that predator learns that its prey is just going to be restocked, well, that's like a fox returning to a henhouse.  Totally instinctual, out of your control."

The tiny nods keep coming.

"But it may be that 'they' would choose to install their creepy little pet somewhere else, if that habitat proved no longer hospitable."

A wary light kindles in Mr. Hsiao's eyes.  "Oh, do you really think so?  I could be ever so apologetic, offer to build better fences, spotlights, more cameras..."

Xiumin nods along, offering a grin.  "You do that, Mr. Hsiao.  And on an entirely unrelated note, we'd like a tour of said cemetery.  We want to make sure our honored parents are laid to rest somewhere auspicious and beautiful."

"I usually prefer to escort people myself, but I'm rather... busy today," Mr. Hsiao hedges.  "But the gates are open during the day, so you can take a look around on your own."

"Works for me," Xiumin grins, and Mr. Hsiao manages an actual smile in return.

 

The cemetery used by Zunjing is a beautiful, park-like space on the edge of Beijing, not yet entirely surrounded by the sprawl of the always-growing city.  Neatly-paved paths wander through manicured lawns, ensuring the families of those buried here would have little to do on Grave-Cleaning Day.  

It's so quiet Xiumin can hear Taozi's teeth chattering beside him.

"TaoTao, you know the creep isn't really a ghost, right?"

"Looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, eats corpses like a duck..." Tao shudders.  "Lucky for us both, I'm way more afraid of DaeDae."

Xiumin laughs.  It's hard to picture anything untoward happening in a lovely, well-kept place like this, and they see no signs of the gravedigger.

"He's here a lot, though," Tao says, face scrunched in distaste.  "The place reeks of him, especially around the fresh graves.  He's probably hiding in one."

Now it's Xiumin's turn to shudder.  "Okay, that's where I draw the line.  I'm not digging things up until we find him, and there's no way Chenny's going to let me come back at night to see if he pokes his corpse-eating head out of his hole."  He casts his eyes sideways to the edgy imp.  "I'm sure he'd let  _you_  help him out, though," he suggests casually.

"Fuck to the no," Tao instantaneously replies.  "There is nothing in this world he could offer me to make me agree to enter a graveyard at night."

 

"There's got to be  _something_  that would make it worthwhile for you," Chen wheedles at the dinner table, looking back and forth between the imp and the invidius.  "We all know that an ingluvies isn't going to be impersonating corpses—they're too dumb and ugly.  He's someone else's access point, this mysterious 'them' that the funeral guy wouldn't mention, and if we can stake out the cemetery long enough, we can either get this Loh to talk or we'll catch his puppetmasters pulling his strings."

In a repeat of this morning, Xiumin is eating alone while the demons bicker among themselves.  But at least it's at a reasonable volume and in a language he can understand—though it's still much the same subject, what with Chen once again in the position of getting the other demons to help him with his human.

"You could just creep around a cemetery at night by yourself," Lu points out.  "Why do we need to join you?"

Chen scowls.  "Because Daddy won't let me break curfew by myself," he growls.  "And Taozi says the cemetery is fucking huge.  With three of us, Tao and I can skulk about and Lu can provide aerial surveillance, pointing us toward likely spots and watching our backs."

"Ugh, fine, but remember I'm a lover, not a fighter.  You two weapon-wielding badasses have to deal with all threats.  And speaking of lovers..." Lu smirks.  "Let me take your handsome human on a date," he demands.  "Alone, just the two of us, with him looking fucking  _edible_."

Chen's face can't settle on an expression, but the link is an icepick of stinging jealousy that makes Xiumin rub his sternum and shoot the demons a glare as he chews.

"He can't touch me, Chenny," Xiumin points out.  "And he won't even be feeding from me directly.  He wants to make the rest of the crowd envy him.  You know the drill."

Chen does know the drill, seeing as Lu used to take Xiumin on dates like this once a week or so when he'd lived with them during their first year or so in Beijing.  It was a way for Xiumin to practice the language and get to know the city, and it was usually rather fun, if entirely cheesy.  Back in those days, same-sex relationships weren't as common (or at least, not publicly flaunted), so Lu would take a more feminine form, wearing cute little dresses and skirts that had initially made it very difficult for Xiumin to have a conversation with or about him without laughing like an idiot.

But nobody bats an eye anymore at two men holding hands or cuddling on a park bench, so Xiumin is mildly curious what form the invidius will wear this time.

" _Fine_ ," Chen finally spits.  "And what horrific price will you exact, TaoTao?"

The imp shrugs.  "The only thing I want, you can't actually give, so."

But evidently Lu's demand has given Chen an idea.  "I could take you on a date, wearing Sehun's shape," he offers.  "Anywhere you like, holding hands and everything."

But Tao is shaking his head.  "We didn't really do that.  I mean, he was a cop, and back then humans still had dumb expectations about manliness for cops that didn't include holding hands with a dude.  We went out to eat or to the movies, but it wasn't like, romantic or anything." 

Taozi sniffs.  "We were dumb and romantic at home, making out on the couch or feeding each other in the kitchen, and in the bedroom—"  he wipes his eyes.  "It wasn't about dates, it was just, our whole life.  I miss him so fucking much," Taozi whispers.  "And once he got older, we didn't... it had been years since we...  I just wish I could be with him one more time."

Xiumin gives Chen a Meaningful Look™ over Taozi's shoulder.  Violent disapproval swamps the link, and then Chen is hauling Xiumin down the hallway toward their room as Lu wraps his arms around the now-sobbing imp.

As soon as the door is closed, Chen's mouth is open.  "Oh no.  Uh-uh.  Nope.  Do  _not_  make me do it, Minseokkie."

"Chenny," Xiumin wheedles.  "You did it before already."

"He doesn't just want to cuddle this time," Chen says.  "I really don't want to fuck him."

"It wouldn't really be  _you_  doing it," Xiumin argues.

"Hell fucking yes it would!"  Chen crosses his arms over his chest.  "I'd have that memory for the rest of my life, and I only want to have memories of fucking  _you_."

"You have memories of fucking lots of people," Xiumin dismisses.  "So do I.  But you wanted this, Chenny.  You wanted Taozi whole and healthy and ready to protect your precious, squishy human.  Are you going to begrudge him a little comfort when he's willing to face his fears for you?"

"I love  _you_ , Minseokkie.  That's my contract: sincerely, completely, eternally.  Ordering me to fuck someone else would be cruel."

"I won't order you," Xiumin assures him, pulling the distressed demon into his arms.  "I love you, too.  I don't really want to share you—oh."  An idea nudges into Xiumin's mind.  "But what if I did?  I mean, what if I helped?"

"Helped?"

"Yeah.  I mean, I can't touch him, obviously.  But I could touch you—I could be in you, pushing you into him.  Sometimes you feed really well from things non-aroused Chenny would hate—what about this?"

Chen doesn't answer for a while, instead choosing to suck a hickey over Xiumin's collarbone.   When the thin skin is painted purple, Chen murmurs, "You're mine, Minseokkie."

"I'm yours," Xiumin agrees.

"Only mine."

"Only yours."

Chen doesn't say anything else, but unrest, discomfort, unease, and dissatisfaction swirl over the link.  Xiumin waits, ready to respond to any concerns his familiar may raise, but it's not until the incubus reaches through the fly of the boxers Lu and Tao insisted he wear to tug on his junk, absently fiddling with the silver barbel in the head of his cock—something he pointedly chooses to ignore unless Xiumin specifically calls it to his attention—that the human gets it.  

His poor demon was probably forced by previous humans to service others, even though he couldn't feed that way.  Hell, with his neverending libido, he could have been passed around like a party favor, and now the one he loves seems to want to do the same thing.  Xiumin can't let his beloved think that he'd ever treat him like a commodity.

"You're wearing that because you're mine, Chenny," Xiumin growls.

The demon looks down at his hand as if he suddenly realized what it was doing.  He releases the piece of silver, frowning at the human.  "I hate it," he says, but with much less vehemence than usual.

"Too bad, you're wearing it because you belong to me and I like making sure you know that.  I summoned you, remember?  I didn't have to.  I chose to, because I wanted you.  I still want you.  You are fucking stuck with me."

Xiumin bites down hard over Chen's shoulder, knowing that any bruises he manages to leave will heal as soon as the demon feeds.  Still, the link pulses with vague satisfaction when his teeth close against skin, when Xiumin squeezes flesh between enamel.

"You are only ever mine, Chenny.  And I am only ever yours.  I don't want to fuck Sehun any more than you want to fuck Taozi.  But I will, because I'm not just going to lend you out in someone else's body.  You and I are doing this together, for Taozi, so he'll help you, but also so he can say goodbye to his lover and move on.  You'll tell him how good he is as I fuck you into him.  You'll take out the piercing and you'll wear a condom, because that jewelry is only for me, your jizz is only for me."

Xiumin claims his familiar's lips, nipping and sucking and claiming that hot, sexy mouth.  "And then, once he's spent and you've held him and told him he's amazing while he cries himself to sleep, then you'll come to me, bare, ready, and I'll push the piercing back through your cock.  You won't have healed yet, because I have no desire to fill Sehun's body.  You'll have come for Taozi, but you won't have fed, so I'll be able to push my piercing back into your cock.  And then you'll use it to pleasure me, to make me come for you, and you'll fill me with what's only mine."

"Okay," Chen pants against Xiumin's neck.  "Okay—if that's how it'll be, I'll do it.  I'll fill you so much, make you come so much."

"You will," Xiumin moans.  "You always do."

"Fucking hold that thought," Chen growls, then darts out of the bedroom for a few minutes. 

Xiumin busies himself shucking his clothing, adding it to the hamper, and flopping on the bed, fully aroused and sprawled out in invitation.  An invitation which Chen happily accepts when he returns, shedding his boxers and launching over Xiumin with a flap of his big black wings to land tangled on top of him.

"It's settled.  We'll try every night after you're asleep, they'll get their payment upon mission success," he reports, grinding down against Xiumin's groin and capturing his lips.  "Gonna fuck you, Minseokkie.  Gonna add two extra fingers.  You're gonna come so hard for me."

Xiumin wouldn't call himself a natural submissive, per se, but he knows how to indulge his bossy beast.  He knows how to pitch his voice to sound needy and desperate in a way that Chen seems to enjoy as he works Xiumin open, as he feeds his slick cock inside, as he massages the stretched rim for long, teasing moments before slipping first one, then two fingers alongside his already-thick cock.  And now Xiumin also knows how to breathe through the stretch, how to relax into pleasure, how to stroke himself to remind his body Chen makes him feel  _good_.  

He curls his hand into a loose fist around his cock, letting Chen's thrusts force his dick through his fist, letting his familiar's sliding fingers light him up with stinging ecstasy.

"So many things, ChenChen," Xiumin sighs.  "So many things only we've shared, just you and me, you're mine, I'm yours, my pleasure is yours, fuck, Chenny."

"Min," Chen grunts in return.  "My Minseokkie, my fucking scrumptious muffin, mine, _mine!_ "

There are lots of annoying things about being possessed by a demon for the rest of his eternal life, but Xiumin can't think of any examples at the moment.  All he can think about is  _Chen_  and how fucking amazing his familiar always makes him feel, how his beloved Chenny-Chenny makes him come so fucking hard, arching his spine off the bed as he yells his satisfaction just before Chen's triumphant scream.

It's really a damn good thing their room is soundproofed.

 

 

It actually takes an entire week of stakeouts before the trio of demons learns anything useful.  Minseok is awoken by the scent of coffee, but instead of languid kisses and lazy cuddles, he gets tugged right the fuck out of bed, a bathrobe is wrapped unceremoniously around him, and he's dragged down the hallway toward the kitchen.

"The fuck?" is all sleepy-Seok manages to articulate pre-coffee.  The first sip of the brain-stimulating beverage allows him to follow that up with, "Is everyone alright?"

"Yes yes, we're all fine," Chen dismisses.  "Well, the ingluvies isn't.  And TaoTao burned through a shit-ton of energy and needs you to tell him how pretty he is before he can human again.  Also I'm starving, and probably Lu, so I should let him tell the story."

"Wait, you're  _helping_  Lu feed from me now?"

"Minseokkie, this is fucking  _important,_ " Chen says, crouching to make eye contact with the human slumped in a kitchen chair, coffee mug cradled to his sternum.  "We think your dumb little gem case—Lu, wake up and tell him!"

"We think your dumb little gem case," Lu picks up obligingly, then waits, drowsing in the opposite kitchen chair, sighing more and more lustily as Xiumin's alertness increases and his patience decreases.  "We think it's just the tip of the iceberg.  This is big.  Really big.  That disgusting ingluvies was a plant."

"By who?  And why?" Xiumin asks, expecting the pause as Lu soaks up the human's envy of his knowledge.  Even though it was his familiar's idea, a stab of jealousy crosses the link, and then Xiumin's lap is full of naked winged catboy.

"By the Big Circle Boys.  To dispose of bodies."

Xiumin almost spit-takes his precious, precious coffee all over the incubus in his lap.  " _The_  Big Circle Boys?" he coughs as Chen pats him on the back.

Both human-shaped demons nod in unison.  Xiumin fights the urge to slump further in his seat, mostly because Chen is pinning his thighs to the chair.  The BCB are one of the biggest triads in China, gangsters that have risen high.  While their grunts still sell drugs and steal and pimp and traffic, the higher-ups play at politics and ponce about at fancy balls.  And apparently, summon demons to consume the corpses of those their underlings kill.  Maybe the "Big Circle" in their name doesn't just refer to their encompassing societal connections.

"Well, no wonder Mr. Hsiao was fucking terrified," Xiumin murmurs to his mug, taking a large, bracing gulp.  "Taozi, I don't think I told you how damn good you look in your new coat."

Taozi, sprawled on the floor in feline form, barely meows.

"But wait, if Loh was there to eat bodies for the gangsters, then why did he mess with our jewelers' corpses?"

"The BCB have early origins in jewel theft," Chen shrugs.  "But we don't actually know why.  We mostly know  _how_."

There's a pause, and Xiumin obligingly looks at Lu, letting his need for the information grow until the invidius spills.  "They have an invidius.  We saw some goons with a body meet the invidius at the cemetery, then the invidius assumed the dead guy's form, put on the body's clothes, pulled the ID out of the wallet so he knew who he was, then the goons took him off somewhere to impersonate the dead."

"They left the corpse out on the lawn, and the ingluvies came to dispose of it, but we disposed of the ingluvies instead."

"I bet Taozi was a big help," Xiumin smiles.

"He was, actually," Chen acknowledges.  "He really grew a pair and charged right in."

"Taozi, I'm so proud of you," Xiumin praises.  "Being so brave, helping your friends, exiling a creeper."

Tao's answering meow seems a bit stronger, but the cat is just as flat on the kitchen tiles.

"Did you get any information from the ingluvies before you killed it?" Xiumin asks, setting the empty mug aside in favor of winding his arms around Chen's narrow waist and resting his chin on his familiar's shoulder.  "And what did you do with the body?"

"The ingluvies was dumber than two stumps," Chen spits, cuddling further against his human.

"Yeah, even dumber than usual for his kind," Lu adds.  "And as for the body..." The invidius inhales deeply, looking more refreshed as Xiumin's anticipation grows.  "We dumped it in front of a police station."

Xiumin's brows dart upward.  "Oh.  That's probably going to piss the BCB off."

"Probably," Lu agrees with a smile.  "And it'll likely give us news stories to follow, to find out who the guy was and maybe why he was killed."

"Clever of you," Xiumin says, the words coming out distorted as Chen shifts in his lap.  He frowns at his mischievous familiar when he feels a fuzzy feline tail snake beneath the bathrobe to caress his thigh.

"So, the BCB are into demons, deep enough that mooks don't flinch when an invidius steals a corpse's face," Lu summarizes, bringing Xiumin's attention back to the nefarious plot at hand.

"And they're not just taking advantage of the dead—it looks a lot like they're offing folks specifically to impersonate them," Chen adds, threading his fingers through Xiumin's hair.

"Which brings us to why and how do we stop it?" Xiumin muses, absently pressing his lips to his familiar's bare shoulder.  The innocent act triggers a flare of hunger over the link, and Xiumin presses his lips together, brain and body alert enough now to notice exactly how wiped out the trio of demons seems.  "The creepy corpse-eater put up a fight, huh?" 

"Nothing we couldn't handle.  It was only a challenge because we tried to pin it down and talk to it first," Chen informs him.

"Damn thing was slippery and disgusting," Lu shudders.  "Most ingluvies at least look human enough to skulk about cities and consume the filth they crave, but this thing wasn't even  _trying_."

"Yeah, you should be extra-proud of Taozi for not nope-ing right the fuck out of there," Chen says.  "Even I wanted to throw up a little."

"Our Taozi is super brave," Xiumin coos.  "So strong and tough, no ugly slimeball is too gross for him to dispatch."

The Siamese's espresso tail flicks against the tile, but he's still closer to rug than cat.  Xiumin sighs, because he  _just_  got the imp scraped up off the floor and mostly functional, and now they're back to this after a single fight.  At this rate, Xiumin's going to be the one defending his bodyguard, if Chen lets the pair of them leave the house at all.

He looks up at the clock.  Not even seven a.m., and his demons have been de-commissioned even before the neighborhood kids leave for school.  Looks like he's in for a rather unproductive day.

Then he sits up straight, almost dislodging the hungry incubus on his lap.  "Lu, grab Taozi and go sit at the bus stop."

The invidius peels his beautiful face from the polished wood of the breakfast table to glare at him.  "Just fuck your familiar right here, we don't fucking care anymore."

A tongue of lust licks over the link at Lu's suggestion, but Xiumin restrains his familiar's wiggling ass.  "No, the kids are gathering to wait for the bus.  If you sit out there with a cute little kitty on your lap, you'll both get fed."

Lu manages to pick his entire torso off the table, but he's swaying slightly in his seat.  "Oh, that probably would work rather nicely."

"Chenny, put your pants on and help them," Xiumin prods, and his familiar slithers off his lap with a reluctant whine.

But soon the trio of exhausted demons are stumbling into the lobby, a fully-dressed and fully-human Chen supporting a wilting Lu with a limp Taozi dangling from beneath his arm.  Xiumin, having pulled on sweatpants and a hoodie, is hovering behind them, frustrated at not being able to physically help without making things worse.   Filled with the urge to do  _something_ , he strides across the lobby to push open a plate glass door ahead of the pitiful procession, turning his back to the bright morning sun spreading over the black marble floor.

" _Three_  foxes?" someone gasps, and Xiumin twists around to see Mr. Liu's daughter silhouetted on the sidewalk.  "You  _are_  a Daoshi!"


	5. Indescent Expawsure

For a moment, everybody freezes.  Well, mostly Chen and Xiumin freeze.  The other two are already pretty damn inanimate.

Xiumin pastes on a smile.  "Uh, good morning, Ms. Liu.  Nice to see you again."  He drops a bow while still holding the heavy glass door wide open.  "Have you come to check up on your case?"  He beckons Chen to continue dragging his fellow demons out into the morning sun, anxious to plant them at the bus stop and get them fed.  Hopefully he can take Ms. Liu into the office and distract her with some rambling updates.

"It's just Amber, please," the young woman says as she returns the bow.  She kicks up the skateboard at her feet, hoisting it onto her shoulder to reveal the brightly-colored underside. "How are you still so balanced with three fucking foxes under your control?" 

Xiumin looks around.  "Foxes?" he asks, inviting her into the building with a gesture after the demons have stumbled out.

But Amber narrows her eyes, tossing her blonde bangs out of her face.  "Do you think I'm stupid?" she asks.  "I know what I see."  Her dark eyes follow the trio as they struggle toward the bus stop.

_Well damn._   Deciding to stick with his usual policy—admit nothing outright—Xiumin gives the young woman a warm smile.  "What do you see?" he asks.

She frowns.  "They look terrible.  Is that how you do it?  You're in balance because you figured out how to make them suffer in your place?"

_What the fuck?_   "I'm sorry?" Xiumin's smile falters.

Amber whistles.  "Damn, that's hardcore."  Her eyes flick from where Chen is settling Lu onto the bus stop bench back to Xiumin's frozen face.  "So why are you playing at being a P.I. when you could be taking over the fucking world?"

"Why would I want to take over the world?" Xiumin asks, gaze slipping past the young woman to watch Chen place Taozi in Lu's lap, just in time for the first schoolkid to run up, backpack bouncing, to pet the slowly-blinking cat.

Amber laughs.  "Fair enough.  But still—you could be doing a lot more than solving people's freaky little problems."  She curls a lip as she finally enters the marble lobby, skateboard under her arm.  "Or at least living somewhere more modern."

Xiumin forces a chuckle.  "I like this old-fashioned building," he says, unlocking the brass office door and pulling it open ahead of Amber.  "And I like solving problems for people."  He lets the door swing shut behind them, only to have it fly open again as Chen catches the edge of the brass and follows them inside.

"I bet you're really good at it," Amber says as Xiumin gestures at the synth-leather sofa.  She leans her skateboard against the side before she drops onto it, sitting sprawled with her elbows draped over the back.  

"I try," Xiumin says, offering a smile despite the uneasiness drifting up the link from the incubus close at his back.  "Can I offer you some tea?  Coffee?"

"Coffee, please, if you don't mind."

Now Xiumin's smile is genuine.  "I could use a second cup myself."  He turns pleading eyes to his familiar.

Chen scowls, and even though the feline appendage isn't in evidence at the moment, Xiumin could swear he sees his familiar's tail lash irritably as he stalks toward the door to the kitchen.

"Whoa.  So how do you do it?"

Xiumin's eyes snap from Chen's tense little buns back to the woman on his sofa.  "What?"

"Control the foxes without getting the devil-disease."

Xiumin shakes his head.  "I'm definitely not in control of any foxes.  I do have an update on your case—"

"Don't play dumb with me," Amber grins.  "I'm Wu, remember?  Is it true that you're actually  _married_  to one of them?"

"I am married," Xiumin admits.  "But—"

"To which one?  The cute one making coffee?"  She gasps.  "You're not married to  _all_  of them, are you?"

"What? No—I have one spouse," Xiumin hastens to clarify.  "And yes, Chen is making us coffee."

As if summoned by Xiumin's words, Chen pushes the door open with his back, turning to set a tray with two cups of coffee, sugar, and cream on the desk.  Then he moves to stand behind Xiumin and eye the woman on the sofa.

Amber takes a cup and sips it black, eying Chen right back.  Tension filters down the link.

Xiumin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.  "Chen, dearest, don't you have work today?"

"Can't work," Chen says, eyes still locked on the increasingly-amused woman across from them.  "Too worn out."

"If you're tired, why don't you go lie down?"  Xiumin suggests, keeping his voice sweet and reasonable.

"I'm never too tired to protect you."

Xiumin scoffs.  "Protect me from what, exactly?"

Chen lifts his chin in Amber's direction.

Xiumin glares at his familiar.  "Really?"

Chen nods.

The detective gives his client's daughter a tense smile.  "Please excuse us."

Amber waves a hand permissively as she swigs her coffee.

Xiumin turns back to his looming husband, keeping his voice low and calm. "Do you really think Ms. Liu is a danger?"

Chen nods.

"Is she armed?"

Chen shakes his head.

"Then do you really think she's capable of harming a fully-grown, combat-trained man in an unarmed confrontation, even if she were likely to try to do so?"

Chen shrugs, glancing down at his irate husband.  "You don't usually look all that capable of harming a fully-grown, combat-trained man in an unarmed confrontation, either, but you very much are."

Amber bursts into laughter.  "You guys are  _so_  married," she chortles.  "This is  _adorable—_ Dad said you guys were super cute at the shop, but Grandma thought you could be faking it."  She wipes a tear from her eye.  "This, though, is unmanufactured proof."

Feeling his face heat a bit at their unprofessional display in front of a client, Xiumin stands up, ready to drag his familiar out of the room.  Except that Lu trudges through the door, Tao draped over his shoulder.

"Well, that helped a lot, but I still feel like shit and Taozi looks like it.  Too bad I'd look like a pedophile if we were there when the delicious little things got back off the bus this afternoon—Oh."  Lu drops a bow to the just-noticed woman.  "Sorry.  I didn't know you had a client."

_Fucking demons._   For all that they're useful, they are fucking _brilliant_  at complicating his life.  "Ms. Liu is one of the initial reporters of the jewel thefts," Xiumin introduces, sincerely hoping he doesn't have a visit from the sex crimes unit after Amber leaves.  "This is Mr. Lu, my husband's co-worker.  Uh, and our office mascot.  They were just getting some air—the cat really likes children."  He offers what he hopes is a wholesome smile. 

But Amber looks horrified.  "Oh.  My.   _God._   Do the foxes eat  _kids?_   Is that the secret?"

"What?  No!" Xiumin shakes his head in denial.  "There are no foxes, and nobody eats kids!"  Fuck, he has to fix this.  The Temptress will  _not_  be happy if they have to relocate before Chen's hit list is cleared.

"Oh, I'm definitely a fox, baby," Lu asserts, bouncing his arched brows suggestively at Amber.  "And I have no interest in kids, but _you_ could be my little vixen."  Any miniscule chances the invidius had of actually scoring some action with this cringe-worthy line are certainly not improved by the sagging cat rump right next to his face.

_Fucking hell._   " _Okay!_ "  Xiumin claps his hands.  "I'm sure Chen and Mr. Lu have some really important work to do _somewhere else_.  Just put the cat down—"  _And get the fuck out._  "—And have a nice day at work, okay, honey?"  He presses a kiss to Chen's temple and all but shoves him towards Lu (and the door).

"Aw, don't send them away!" Amber cries.  "I've helped Grandma with exorcisms before, but I've never met, like... what would you call them?  Tame?  Domesticated?  Or are they actually, like,  _good?_ "

_They are definitely not good._

Lu slides onto the couch next to Amber.  "I'm good in bed," Lu offers.  "But I'm far from tame."

_Holy mother of Arabica_.  Xiumin buries his head in his hands.  "Mr. Lu, please don't proposition my clients."   _And please go the fuck away._   

Amber snorts.  "I absolutely know better than to sleep with a fox.  It's dangerous to dabble with Yao."  She cocks her head at Xiumin.  "Well, for most of us, anyway."

Xiumin closes his eyes and purses his lips, squeezing his hands into fists instead of zapping the fuck out of an invidius.  "Ms. Liu, I cannot apologize enough for the absolute disaster this morning has become.  It's entirely unprofessional and unacceptable for a client to be subjected to such treatment, but I hope you can accept my sincere—"

"Dude, chill out.  I'm not going to like, report you to the local temple or anything.  I'm just curious as to how you're breaking all the rules.  Either everything I've been taught has been a lie, or you're the most powerful Daoshi to ever live."  Suddenly Amber's eyes go wide and she leans forward.  "Holy shit, are you actually Xian?"

Lu bursts into raucous laughter, slapping his knees and cackling so hard it looks like his pretty little chin is about to fall right the fuck off.  "No one has ever been simultaneously so fucking wrong and yet technically correct," he wheezes.  

Xiumin winces.  The literal translation of the word means _immortal_ , which he is, but it's generally used to describe very dedicated religious practitioners purported to have devoutly transcended the limitations of their mortal flesh, which he _isn't_.  But it's obvious that Amber is not going to let this go until she gets some kind of answer.  He still hates lying, so he gives the woman the truth. 

"Look, I'm not religious at all.  I respect others' spirituality, but it's never been for me.  I'm not any kind of priest or shaman, and you can see for yourself that I have basically zero control over anyone in this room."  

Chen snorts.

Xiumin glares at him, then gives Amber his most sincere face.  "Chen really is my spouse.  Our relationship is genuine, if unconventional.  He's my partner in everything, and I can't imagine life without his obnoxious ass by my side."

Then he turns to the invidius, now on the floor, having abandoned Tao on the synth-leather sofa cushion beside Amber.  "And that piece of utter filth really does work with Chen.  He drives me crazy, but he comes in incredibly useful just often enough that I haven't yet attempted to actually kill him."

He sighs down at the curled-up cat.  "And Taozi really is... our pet, I guess.  But he's more than just a pretty kitty face.  He's important to us."

Xiumin looks back up at the woman on the sofa.  "I don't know what you see when you look at us.  But I hope you can see that I'm just a guy who wants to help people.  It's as simple as that."

It really is that simple at the core of it.  It's why he went to the academy and became a cop, it's why he accepted promotions, why he went in person to the crime scene that was tripping his detective's creepy-dar, why he took home the cat they found there, why he worked so hard to chip away Chen's bitter, callous attitude towards him and humans in general, why he went with Chen to slay a butcher demon, why he saved the life of the man Chen used as bait, why he felt the need to re-summon the demon that sacrificed his life for Xiumin's inability  _not_  to save a hateful man's life, why he agreed to lend his familiar to a demon queen in exchange for the chance to live long enough to help more people.

He may as well stencil PUBLIC SERVANT on his forehead.

Thankfully, the member of the public he's currently trying to serve nods her head, short blonde hair flopping over her forehead with the movement.  "Okay," Amber agrees.  "I can see that.  I mean, I can see that they're definitely Yao of some kind and you definitely have some kind of supernatural resistance to their unbalancing effects, but I can also see that you're some kind of weird little family and I can accept that your goal is to help people."  She grins.  "And it's so cute that you married one.  You guys are like a legendary couple from an ancient tale, like a modern White Snake or something."

This sets Lu off again, but before the invidius can say anything about his own modern snake, Xiumin grabs his cup of now-lukewarm coffee from the tray on the desk and empties it onto the demon's rocking torso, eliciting unmasculine shrieks that he endures with an unwavering smile.

"Oops," Xiumin says.  "Guess you should go change.  I'm sure Chen can help you find something clean to wear."  He smiles angelically at his stony-faced husband.

Chen rolls his eyes.  "Taozi," he calls, making the Siamese lift his head.  "You're on duty.  Remember what I said." 

Taozi manages to sit up and look somewhat alert as Chen grabs Lu's flailing leg by the ankle and stalks toward the still-open door to the kitchen, dragging the invidius behind him.  Lu squawks and thrashes and kicks at Chen's wrist with the other foot, but the incubus slides him into the living quarters without reaction.

Amber smirks.  "You say you have no control, but your husband is totally whipped for you."

Xiumin sighs, leaning a hip against the front of the desk.  "I know, but I'm totally whipped for him, too, so it's not actually an advantage."

"Cute!" she coos again.  

Shaking his head, Xiumin scoffs.  "I can't believe, after that exhibition, that you'd call us anything but 'disgraceful.'"

She waves a hand.  "Eh.  Every family has that one you hate to bring out in public.  In my case, it's a grandmother—not the one you met—that's incredibly racist toward everyone who isn't a hundred percent pure Han Chinese, including me, because my dad is from—" She gasps.  " _Taiwan._ "

Xiumin lets himself smile.  "Well, now that we've completely abandoned any pretense at formality or professionalism, do you want an update on your case?"

"Sure," Amber grins.  "Especially because I came here this morning to report that there's been another non-break-in."  The grin fades.  "She's started taking the good sapphires, now."

Xiumin frowns.  "I'm sorry to hear that.  But we do have a few leads, and I assure you we're actively working on your case.  In fact, a major contributor to this morning's debacle is that my associates had been doing some overnight surveillance for me and are more slap-happy than sensible at the moment.  If you give us a few hours to recuperate, we'll come take a look at the latest security footage and—"

"I've got it right here," Amber replies, tugging a data chip out of her pocket and tossing it to Xiumin.  "It's got a list of the missing sapphires, and some insurance photos of the more valuable of the stolen jewels.  Not that they'll be that helpful for ID, seeing as they've all been prised out of their settings again."  The woman shudders.  "She does it with her fingernails, which is just creepy.  I know you told us she's not my stepmom, but Grandma and I are fairly sure she's not human at all."  Amber regards him knowingly.

"I'm sure there's a rational explanation," Xiumin dismisses, even though he's sure the rational explanation is that it's a fucking demon.  "In fact, we have a lead on who's taking the stones—or at least who they probably work for—even if we still don't have any clue as to  _why_."  

Amber tilts her elegant chin.  "Is stealing gems not enough of a 'why?""

"It would be, if they'd gone for the valuable stuff from the beginning," Xiumin answers.  "And if this whole thing doesn't appear to be tied to the BCB."  The triad may have origins in jewel theft, but they hardly need to knock over neighborhood shops of any type anymore.  If they're taking sapphires, it's probably not for financial reasons.

Amber gapes, shifting forward on the sofa.  "Well, that certainly makes things... interesting."

"That's not the word I'd use."  Xiumin's lips quirk.

"Well, it's also fucking terrifying," Amber replies with a wry chuckle.  "I brought you that data chip to save you a trip to the shop, but now I think you should stop by and talk to Grandma.  Whenever the BCB end up in the news, she always mumbles about 'fangshi devils.'  I always assumed she was using 'devils' as an insult, but maybe she meant it literally—foxes seem the type to pluck gemstones from metal with their claws."

Xiumin chews a lip.  He doesn't want to talk to the eerie old woman again and dodge more questions about foxes and ancient religious practices, especially when he has his own sources of abyssal information.  But talking to an old woman is probably the physically safest avenue of investigation that he has right now.   _Safe_  is all he's going to be able to get away with today, since his familiar and associates aren't exactly in top condition at the moment.  Given the choice between being stuck in the flat with three hungry and irritable demons or drinking tea with an unnerving pair of women, Xiumin gives one of those women a nod.

"I'll come by the shop as soon as I make sure my spouse has had his breakfast."  When there's a plaintive meow from the sofa beside Amber, Xiumin rolls his eyes at the Siamese.  "I'll feed the cat, too, of course." 

But Tao is purring and rubbing against Amber, much to the young woman's delight.  "He's adorable," she laughs.  "All your foxes are."

Amber moves to pull the cat onto her lap but Xiumin stops her with a gesture.  She'd seemed against "dabbling with Yao," so he feels obligated to somehow inform her that's what she's about to do.

"You can pet him if you like," Xiumin says carefully.  "But he really,  _really_  likes it when people give him compliments and fuss over him.  In fact, one could say he  _lives_  for it."  A lack of compliments wouldn't actually kill him, but Xiumin doesn't know how else to imply that the young woman is about to feed a demon without admitting it directly.

Amber freezes, studying the cat with discerning dark eyes before turning her gaze to Xiumin.  "So he beguiles his victims, then?  I bet he's really good at it.  How do you resist?"

"He is good at it," Xiumin affirms.  "And I don't resist.  I tell him how handsome he is all the time—I'm just allergic to him, so I can't pet him."  He may hate lying, but decades of living with demons has made him disturbingly good at it.  "And while he is very beguiling, he doesn't have victims any more than a flower victimizes the sun.  He just blossoms under the attention."  He smiles, pleased with his poetic analogy.

Amber regards the purring feline, who widens his big blue eyes and places an espresso paw cautiously on the woman's leg.  He emits a tiny pleading mew, and Amber melts.

"Oh, you  _are_  a devil," she says with a chuckle, scooping the Siamese into her arms.  "Grandma always says Yao are seductive, but this is just ridiculous."  She cradles him like a baby, chucking him under his dark chocolate chin as she continues to coo.  "Is this what you do?  Make big, innocent eyes at unsuspecting people so you can use them for your nefarious fox purposes?"

Amber sounds like she's mocking him, but based on how loudly Taozi is purring, Xiumin knows he's getting fed well anyway.  More proof that it's the admiration he's feeding on rather than the actual words—insincere compliments probably wouldn't satisfy the imp, but these affectionate jibes seem to be doing the trick.

Xiumin chuckles at the pair.  Considering the last unsuspecting person Tao seduced lived to be ninety-seven, his purposes hardly seem nefarious even if Amber is right that he's more dangerous than he looks.

"I'm hungry, too!"  Lu crashes through the door looking all soft-cuddly-boyfriend in one of Chen's oversized hoodies.  The owner of the garment is hanging on to the hood, doing his best to throttle the taller demon.

"No way," Amber denies flatly.  "I am  _not_  cuddling you."

"But I can make big, innocent eyes, too!" Lu demonstrates, and Xiumin can practically see the anime sparkles.  Chen pretends to throw up into the hood he's still holding on to.

"No," Amber says again, then turns the volume up even higher on Taozi's purrs by kissing his furry forehead.  

Xiumin rolls his eyes at Lu's pout.  "You don't even like that kind of attention," he chides.  "Leave Ms. Liu alone."

"I like the attention I'd get from taking her on super fun dates," Lu counters.  "And thanks to you, I have to use my big, innocent eyes to get dates instead of doing things the easy way."

Amber shoots Lu a quelling glance before pinning Xiumin with accusing eyes.  "You let your foxes go on dates?"

Xiumin shrugs.  "I told you—I have very little influence over any of these idiots.  But while Lu is extremely annoying, he's mostly harmless.  And he does know the best places for super fun dates."  Lu's face lights up with the greasiest smile, and he goes to sit on the sofa beside Amber.  Lip curling with disgust, Xiumin hastens to add, "Not that I'm encouraging you to let the sleazeball take you anywhere."

Lu's face falls.  "You are the  _worst_  wingman," he whines.  Then he brightens up.  "But we did the thing!  So that means I get to take  _you_  on dates!"

Amber's eyes are darting back and forth between the three men, eyebrows sliding up her forehead.  "So, you have one spouse—but you also have a side guy?"

Xiumin facepalms as Chen growls.  "I have one spouse and zero romantic interest in anyone else.  But Lu really likes showing off, and occasionally I agree to be his trophy date."  

"He's way prettier than Chen," Lu explains with a smirk.  "Plus it annoys Chen when I borrow his husband, and I really like annoying Chen."

Said husband is entirely unsurprised when Chen's arms snake around his waist from behind, drawing him firmly against the demon's chest.  Xiumin indulges his possessive familiar by leaning back against him, but he scrunches his neck and his face in objection when moist lips start wandering over the exposed skin.

"Do you mind?  I am  _trying_  to salvage my professionalism and none of you are helping."  Taozi meows from Amber's arms, and Xiumin smiles down at the cuddled cat.  "Except Taozi.  He's perfect and handsome and very, very helpful."

"I'm perfect and handsome and helpful, too," Lu protests.  "And hungry.  You should go feed Chen, and let me take this little vixen somewhere fun while the two of you are all gross and domestic."

The link between Xiumin and his hungry familiar brightens with hope and desire, but as much as he'd like to send everyone else away and let his darling demon seduce him, someone has to be the adult around here and that someone is almost always Xiumin.

"I'm sure Ms. Liu has much better things to do than spend her morning indulging the world's greasiest flowerboy," Xiumin chides, glaring at Lu.  Then he turns to Amber, softening his face around an apology.  "I'd visit the shop right away, but it seems I have a hungry spouse to attend to first.  Will your grandmother be available this afternoon?"

"Grandma's at the shop all day today," Amber laughs.  "If your foxes are like this all the time, I'm even more impressed with how in balance you are.  You should be way more stressed."  She gives Lu a considering glance.  "But since you  _are_  so balanced, and since you believe this flowerboy to be mostly harmless, I'm willing to sacrifice my morning off so the cutest fairytale couple can have brunch in peace."  Lu brightens at Amber's smirk.  "I like showing off, too, and I was heading to the skate park after this, anyway.  You can come with me if you want, as long as certain conditions are met."

"Name your price," Lu encourages with a glint in his eye.

Xiumin opens his mouth to protest, but Chen's hand claps over the lower part of his face.  Licking or biting or kicking the incubus in the junk would all be equally ineffective, so Xiumin just shoots death glares at the invidius grinning at the only-sort-of-suspecting woman.

"First, all of you have to stop calling me Ms. Liu.  I keep telling you it's just Amber.  And second, this little 'date' is going to be strictly platonic.  You're not going to try anything lewd with me, and you're definitely not going to harm me in any way."  She flicks her eyes to the side to give Xiumin a questioning glance that only gets more questioning when she sees Chen's hand over his mouth.  "I was going to ask you if this fox will keep his word, but now I'm wondering how badly I'm fucking up by even talking to him."

With a sigh, Xiumin tugs on Chen's pinky, sending murder across their link until he releases the human's jaw.  "Lu is the one that should be wondering how badly he's screwing up," Xiumin snarls, but his familiar is hungry enough that he's shaking with the effort of holding his human shape, and the other two demons aren't much better.  Hell, Taozi probably couldn't pull off a human shape for more than a minute, and Xiumin doesn't want to either wait around for days for his crew to recover or piss off his familiar by going off without a demonic bodyguard.

So Xiumin decides to let Amber make her own mind up.  She's an adult, she's evidently been raised to be cautious of the unusual, and he doesn't truly believe she'll be in danger if Lu takes her somewhere for a few hours.  "Look, Lu is the slipperiest slimeball you've ever met, but he will hold up his end of a deal he's agreed to," Xiumin admits.  Then he gives the invidius a steely look.  "And if he does or says  _anything_  while he's with you that would piss me off to hear about, he can expect  _consequences._ "  

Xiumin may not be able to control the infuriating invidius, but he does have leverage on Chen, and Chen has a pair of shiny silver-etched swords.  Dusting the demon will only inconvenience him—he'll be back from the abyss within hours, probably.  But Xiumin has it on good authority that being dusted fucking  _hurts_ , and he's sure it wouldn't take much to convince Chen to repeat the dispatching act several times in a row.  Hell, he'd probably even enjoy it.

Lu evidently knows this, because he gives Xiumin a rapid nod of acquiescence, big brown eyes bobbing above his clasped hands.  Then he turns to Amber with a wide smile.  "This is going to be so much fun!  It's going to be so much better to have arm candy that can actually hold my arm."

In response to the renewed questions in Amber's gaze, Xiumin rolls his eyes.  "I'm allergic to him, too."

From behind him, Chen snorts.  "Isn't there a playground right next to the skate park?" he asks, distracting the woman giving Xiumin an odd look.

When Amber nods, Chen releases his husband to cross to the coat rack, pulling a red satin ribbon off one of the hooks.  There's a shiny gold heart dangling from it, and Xiumin grins as the Siamese wriggles out of Amber's arms to hop on the back of the sofa.  His dark brown tail swishes elegantly as Chen fastens the strip of satin around his neck, letting the heart engraved with his name hang in the front and tying it in the back with a tidy bow.

"Take Taozi with you and let him play with the kids while you skate.  If you're hungry, too, I'm sure Lu will buy you some street food on the way.  There's an excellent baozi cart on the corner."  The incubus rests heated eyes on Xiumin.  "I like their lamb baozi the best."

Now it's Xiumin's turn to snort.  His familiar may want lamb buns, but he's going to get a meat skewer instead.  Chen's so hungry he can't hide his feline ears and tail anymore if the demon's attire is any clue—he's wearing a loose-fitting pair of Xiumin's sweatpants, and the hood of the matching sweatshirt is tugged up over his head.  There won't be time for anything other than quick-and-dirty.

"Give Lu some cash, then, dearest," he commands.  After learning that Lu's illusions linger for a while after leaving his possession, Xiumin suspects that, if left to his own devices, Lu would happily pay for things with counterfeit cash.  It would be mildly amusing if he were ripping off human conmen or gangsters, but the poor street vendor is just working for a living.  He doesn't deserve to open his cashbox and find random bits of paper.

Once Chen has tucked cash into Lu's pocket and Taozi into Amber's cradling arms, he shoves the skateboard at the invidius and holds open the brass office door.  "Have fun, kids," he calls after them.  "Look both ways before crossing the street!"

Then he lets the self-locking door click shut and pounces on his fondly-glaring human.

 

Xiumin sets to fuck-feeding his familiar without preamble, letting the invidius launch his libido with a venom-laced kiss before folding Chen over the back of the sofa.  He just tugs their sweatpants down out of the way enough to liberate the lashing tail and get his dick into Chen's hungry hole, but the demon scrabbles at his own sweatshirt, whipping it over his head just in time for his leathery wings to manifest with a snap.

"I better not find any demon jizz on this sofa later," Xiumin huffs as he pounds into Chen, watching his dick disappear into the demon's depths over and over while Chen's tail writhes and trembles and curves around Xiumin's neck.  The demon is whining desperately instead of moaning, squeezing Xiumin's cock rhythmically, but as good as it feels, it's going to take more than that to overwhelm a man of Xiumin's stamina, especially one that went from flaccid to fucking in about two seconds.

So he shoves his familiar the rest of the way over the back of the sofa, dragging his pants the rest of the way off as his unresisting body flops belly-up onto the cushions, wings crumpled beneath him.  Chen's features sharpen and his skin darkens as the rest of his glamour dissolves, leaving him in his infernal form as Xiumin clambers on top of him and shoves his cock back inside.

"Give me more venom," Xiumin demands, bowing forward as Chen curves up to meet him.  He's gripping Chen's hips and hammering away while Chen grips his face and mimics the action with his too-long tongue, setting Xiumin's entire mouth tingling as if he'd licked a fistful of batteries.

It's enough even if it isn't the most pleasant way to get off, and Xiumin winces as he fills his familiar full of come, the forced orgasm almost painful.  Chen's own climax immediately follows, the dark skin of his stomach suddenly streaked with white.  The energy Xiumin can feel draining from himself into his familiar is barely a trickle, but it's enough that Chen stops whimpering and his shuddering subsides.  The link transmits his relief along with vague dissatisfaction as he stares up at Xiumin, black eyes gleaming within an ebony face.

"That was close," Chen mutters.

Xiumin pulls a face.  "Bedroom," he declares, and Chen's hands shift from Xiumin's face to wrap around his neck, pulling himself tight against Xiumin's torso as the human straightens up.  The demon's wings flutter behind him, adding a little push to help Xiumin stand up with the demon wrapped around his body and impaled on his still-hard dick.  The fact that he can walk, much less carry his familiar, is evidence that he hasn't fed him nearly enough.

They collapse across the bed and Xiumin resumes thrusting, this time using long, languid strokes that make both of them moan at the more-satisfying sensations.  He leans down to kiss Chen again, smiling against venom-free lips.  Xiumin's mouth is still tingling a bit from the flood the demon fed him earlier, hence his rock-hard cock despite the load he's already delivered to the demon in return.  That load is easing the slide of Xiumin's dick, dry skin no longer sticking uncomfortably during the long drags in and out.

"So much better," Xiumin sighs, swallowing Chen's answering chuckle.  

Chen's hands roam his body, feeling bonier and more angular than usual, but Xiumin doesn't mind.  It's not the first time he's fucked his familiar in his "natural" form, even though Chen himself is most comfortable wearing a softer shape and paler skin.  He told Xiumin once that during his millennia of forced servitude, he'd been summoned by humans from all corners of the globe and had therefore worn every shade of human skin and hair to blend with the local population.  He'd always preferred being male but hadn't cared much about his looks, though he'd kept the same basic facial features out of familiarity unless his summoner had demanded something different.  

But when Xiumin had given him blanket permission to look however he wanted provided he hide his infernal appendages in public, bashfulness had seeped across their link.

"I like looking like this," Chen had confessed.  "You lusted after this body, then fell in love with this face."

Xiumin had been compelled to demonstrate that lust and love very thoroughly after that pronouncement.

And he demonstrates it again now, even though his familiar's current form is not as familiar to either of them.  It's still his Chenny-Chenny, still his darling demon, and Xiumin doesn't need the lingering venom for his arousal to steadily build again.  He just needs responsive skin beneath his hands, ardent moans from Chen's throat, and the heady rush of desire and delight that's sizzling across the link.

"Next time, let me feed you first, then tell me what the fuck drained you so badly," Xiumin chides, sliding the pad of his thumb across an extra-sharp cheekbone.  "I don't want the CAPN on my ass."

Chen chuckles beneath him, claiming another kiss.  "I doubt China's Animal Protection Network extends to familiars."

"The CFPN, then," Xiumin corrects before capturing fondly-curving lips again.  "I have enough legal trouble as it is—I'm probably already going down for human endangerment charges after letting Lu waltz off with my client."

Chen scoffs.  "The baby Wu will be fine.  Though it might be better if she isn't.  She's going to complicate things."

Xiumin pinches Chen's shapely ass as he thrusts into it more roughly.  "Nobody's hurting Amber," he asserts.  "I like her, and we're moving in a few years anyway.  She can tell her grandkids bedtime stories about the weird fox guy."

"You're not a weird fox guy.  You're my pretty little princeling.  My delicious cream-filled cupcake."

"You're the one that's cream-filled," Xiumin rumbles, picking up the pace of his thrusts.  "I'm gonna fill you again.  Gotta take good care of my pretty little kitty.  My favorite little fiend."

"Don't worry, Minseokkie," Chen laughs as Xiumin pounds more firmly into him.  "I'd never let the CFPN take you away.  You're the best human I've ever had—nobody could feed me better than you."

"Damn right," Xiumin growls, welcoming the thrumming knot building in the base of his spine.  "I'm your only human.  You're mine forever."

"My possessive little princeling," Chen moans, teeth stark white against his dark face.  

"My precious little ChenChen," Xiumin sighs, the rhythm of his hips faltering in the face of the overwhelming affection setting their link aglow.

He pours his own love back, drowns his familiar with all of his adoration and appreciation, fondness and fascination, devotion and desire.  The emotions flooding the link spiral into a feedback loop as often happens when they're connected like this, the maelstrom of ardent feelings culminating in an explosion of mutual satisfaction as Xiumin feeds his familiar his ecstasy and his energy.  

But even though Xiumin knows his familiar is starving, he doesn't siphon away as much as he could.  He's gotten very, very good at taking precisely the amount Xiumin can tolerate, leaving him with enough left to function when he needs to.  So Xiumin smiles as his eyelids droop despite the two cups of coffee he'd downed barely an hour earlier.

"When they get back from the park, tell Amber when I'll be visiting the shop," he murmurs, rolling off his familiar and lying placid, waiting to be cleaned up and tucked in.

"I'll take care of everything," Chen soothes as he wipes his human down with the sensitive-skin baby wipes he makes Xiumin buy, complete with pink princesses on the package.  "You just have a nice nap while I light up ASS with this BCB-demon link.  A stray ingluvies is one thing, but this casual, deliberate assassination and impersonation is a big enough deal that the Temptress should know about it, and I want all the information she has before we get tangled up with a fucking triad.  Your charmed choker only protects you from demons, Minseokkie, and while I trust you to handle yourself with the average knife-wielding low-life, you're not fucking bulletproof and gangsters have guns."

"You're bulletproof, though," Xiumin points out as Chen fluffies his pillow just how he likes and tucks his drowsy human beneath clean sheets.

"Unless the bullets are silver," Chen rebuts.  "And if they're used to dealing with demons, who the fuck knows what other tricks they have up their sleeves."

"We'll find out," Xiumin yawns.  "Then we'll kick their asses."

Chen snorts.  "We're not taking on a triad without serious backup," he declares.  "Don't even think about poking your nose around the BCB without me."

The link crackles with concern, and Xiumin gropes blindly for his familiar, tugging the protesting demon down beside him.  "I won't endanger myself needlessly," he murmurs against Chen's neck.  "And neither will you.  We still don't know who's permanently ending demons, and I'm rather attached to my familiar."

"Which is why I need to radio the mothership," Chen says, kissing Xiumin's forehead and making to get up.

But Xiumin resists.  "I'm almost asleep," he says.  "Stay with me until then."

He doesn't put any official command into his voice but Chen obediently curls around his human, ensuring Xiumin drifts to sleep wearing a smile.

 

He jolts awake hours later in response to Chen's hand on his shoulder and a prod across their link.  

"Come eat your lunch while I tell you what I've learned," the incubus says, all business.  The link feels slippery in the way that means Chen is trying to suppress his own emotions, even though Xiumin can still feel hints of trepidation leaking through.

This can't be good.  With a sigh, Xiumin shakes the last clouds of sleep from his mind and gets dressed, determined to present a professional image at the Liu's shop to make up for the complete chaos of this morning.  As he does so, Chen starts talking.

"The BCB are far from the only group that summons demons to do their dirty work," the incubus begins.  "I've been summoned by gangsters, feudal lords, and other malefactors all over the world.  But usually, demons are a dirty little secret.  We're generally used as assassins, thieves, or spies; very clandestine.  Or we fill the roll of the mysterious champion; unbeatable thugs that the summoner uses to intimidate rivals."

"Okay, but you're way too tense for this to be a 'business as usual' situation," Xiumin observes as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

"Because it's not," Chen confirms, trailing along behind.  "Or at least, not anymore.  ASS reports that the BCB has become the equivalent of our own Scarlet Sagwa—a group run by demons, for demons.  They haven't really been on our radar because they're not competition for the Temptress's interests.  The BCB is the pet project of an invidius prince, an information broker who calls himself the Warden of Whispers."

"He's a smug little fucker, though, so instead of that fancy-ass title, we just call him DubDub," Lu interjects, setting a plate of steamed buns, kimchi, and rice on the table in front of Xiumin.  "For Double Double-U," he explains in response to the human's raised brow.  He didn't even make Xiumin wait for the information, probably because he's already glowing, practically the picture of health.

And so is Taozi, looking as peachy as his name implies, licking one sable paw to run it adorably over an already-glossy ear.  The only problem with this pretty kitty picture is that the Siamese is sitting right beside Xiumin's plate.

"I'm glad your expedition to the park was such a success, but get your filthy asshole off my table," Xiumin demands as he sits down to eat.  "Why do demons insist on ignoring the concept of hygiene?"

Tao opens his mouth to assault Xiumin with a lengthy mrow, varying the pitch in a way that can only be interpreted as scolding.  

Chen snorts.  "He says nothing's gone in or out of his asshole for over a year, unlike mine, and you've fucked me on this table more than once."  He lifts playful brows at his human.  "He's got a point.  His butt's gotta be way cleaner than yours, and I lic—"

"I'm fucking eating," Xiumin protests, giving all three demons a quelling look.  "So, why is this demon prince having his minions steal jewels?"

"Don't know and probably won't be able to find out," Chen states.  "He calls himself the Warden of Whispers because he loves intrigue.  He's this absolute fop who considers himself a mysterious dandy, like James Bond crossed with Draco Malfoy or something.  He collects information.  He only rarely gives it up, even about the most trivial things, unless someone makes it very worth his while."

"And some petty jewel thievery isn't worth it," Lu adds.  "So when you go have tea with the old Wu, just tell the Lius that upping their security is the way to go.  Get an iris or retinal scanner, keep a couple of dogs in the shop overnight, hire a night watchman, that sort of thing.  Invidii aren't inclined toward fighting or confrontation—we're often called 'shadow demons' for a reason.  We're spies, thieves, and con artists—If illusion and trickery can't get us what we're after, we try again somewhere else."

Xiumin nods around his mouthful of baozi.  "Fair enough.  I'll let the Lius know that taking on a triad is above my pay grade and discuss deterrent strategies.  Then you guys can focus on figuring out what's up with the missing demons."

Relief washes over the link like a fresh spring rain, and Chen gives him a back-hug and a loud smacky kiss on the cheek.  Xiumin rolls his eyes and shovels more food into his face.  Keeping an incubus well fed burns a lot of calories.

 

Having tea with Elder Liu isn't as awkward as Xiumin had feared, probably because Amber's there to set the mood.  She's evidently told her grandmother Xiumin and company are benign, because the old woman cautiously allows Chen to charm her, letting him draw her into a conversation about calligraphy and how the art was almost lost before digital paper and ink saved it.  They bond over their mutual preference for the old ways, the meditative qualities of grinding ink and preparing brush and parchment, while Xiumin double-checks that the trip to the park hadn't been a mistake.

"It was actually really fun," Amber informs him.  "Lu can't skate for shit, but I can, so instead of showing off himself, he just stood at one of the rails and told all the skater dudes I was his girlfriend.  They were all really jealous, and Lu just preened like the smuggest little peacock."

Xiumin chuckles in relief.  "Well, good.  I'm glad he managed to behave like a mostly-decent human being."

"He was a perfect gentleman, if a rather greasy one," Amber laughs.  "But it was a bit unnerving to watch him work.  One of the guys at the park was wearing a Guangzhou Evergrande FC jersey, and by the time I came over for a water break, he'd convinced the guy Evergrande sucked and Beijing Guoan was the best."

Shaking his head, Xiumin sighs.  "Even when he's being good, he's a terrible menace," he laments.

"Just proof that it's never safe to mess with Yao," Elder Liu lectures, taking an elegant sip of her tea.

"Absolutely true," Xiumin agrees.  "And it's a bad idea to mess with triads, too, so I'm happy to consult with Mr. Liu about increasing security measures rather than pursuing the case further.  I'm sorry I can't help more, but I'll write up what I've discovered and turn it over to the police in case it helps in a future investigation."

"Fangshi devils," the old woman mutters.  "They can afford to buy their stupid soul gems.  There's no need to defile the dead."

"Fangshi?" Xiumin asks, curious about the unfamiliar word.  It literally seems to mean 'recipe-master,' but Xiumin doubts the elder woman is talking about a chef.

At the same time, Chen almost chokes on his tea.  "Soul gems?" he coughs.

Elder Liu passes Chen a napkin, although she's careful not to actually touch his skin directly.  "Why else would a bunch of devil-worshipping magicians want a bunch of second-rate gems?" She asks.  "Aren't you foxes always after souls?"


	6. Playing Pawlitics

Chen gives the elderly woman across from him an enigmatic smile entirely at odds with the trumpets of alarm blaring across his link with Xiumin.  "If fox spirits really did wear human shapes, why would they bother to trap souls in gems when people are already so good at condemning themselves?" he asks with a coquettish tilt of his head before taking another sip of his tea.

Elder Liu tilts her own head right back, scrutinizing Chen with gimlet eyes.  "Maybe the fangshi trap the souls as offerings to the devils they worship," she says in a tone that sounds almost accusatory.  "Perhaps by sacrificing the souls of strangers they prevent the unbalancing of their own qi."

Xiumin cradles his teacup in his hands as his analytical mind puts together some dots.  If the elder truly believes souls can be trapped in gems and fed to "foxes," that would explain why she'd been so suspicious when perfectly-balanced Xiumin had shown up with Chen to investigate before.  She may have thought they'd been involved with the thefts themselves.  He's not sure what the Wu might do if she believes him guilty, but he'd rather not find out. 

"But your shop isn't the only one that's been burgled," Xiumin says, trying to poke holes in the woman's suspicions.  "Hundreds of gems have been stolen.  Less than ten thousand people are murdered in the whole country each year—surely we'd notice if hundreds of people were killed in a single city in the space of a few months."

Elder Liu shrugs.  "Perhaps they're only separating people from their ethereal souls," she says, making reference to a traditional belief that people have both a heavenly yang and an earthly yin soul inhabiting their bodies.  "Someone animated only by their corporeal soul would blend well with all of Beijing's drone-like salarymen."

Chen laughs, though the link is still vibrating with concern.  "That may well be true.  I've definitely seen people on public transport during the morning rush that look rather soulless."

Amber isn't laughing.  "Is that your secret?" she asks, looking at Xiumin as if he'd betrayed her personally.  "You give hundreds of innocent people the devil-disease that should be yours?"

Eyes wide, Xiumin shakes his head.  "I would never do anything like that, even if I knew how.  I told you, I'm here to help people, not harm them."  He puts all his sincerity into his statement and is relieved when the young woman relaxes, nodding with an apologetic smile.  

"Yet somehow you remain in balance," Elder Liu states before elegantly sipping at her cup.  "There are those who wouldn't hesitate to kill to learn your methods."

Xiumin shakes his head.  "I have no methods to teach," he says.  "I'm not Daoshi or fashi or any kind of shi.  It was pure chance that Chen and I met."  He gives his familiar a fond smile.  "I'm still not sure if that was good luck or bad."

"It was the best luck," Chen replies with a smile of his own, and the link goes warm as the demon's lingering concern is wrapped with affection. 

Amber coos a little, once again softened by this display of their playful relationship, but her grandmother's eyes remain intense.

"And what of your other two... companions?" Elder Liu interrogates.  "It could be possible to become entangled with one fox by chance, but three must be deliberate."

Xiumin shakes his head again.  "I'm only entangled with my Chen.  He has an annoying workmate that hangs around our place a lot, and we sort of adopted a cat that he became fond of."

"And your qi?"

Xiumin shrugs as he sips but smiles as he swallows.  "My husband takes really good care of me—"

"Because you're incapable of doing it yourself," Chen interrupts.

"—And drives me crazy," Xiumin finishes.  "I try to do the same for him in both respects.  Isn't that what marriage is?" 

Elder Liu offers a cautious smile in return.  "Perhaps.  But your fairy tale relationship is hardly setting a good example for my granddaughter.  She would usually know better than to go off with a pair of foxes.  You may be somehow immune to the consumption of your qi, but associating with Yao always carries a risk to the soul."

Chen gives the wary woman a winning smile.  "I can't speak for anyone but myself, but the only soul _I_ care about is my husband's.  As long as it's still within his body, I'm happy.  And my favorite thing to consume is a scrumptious cupcake, though I also enjoy a good barbecue."

Xiumin suppresses a snort.

"But I am guilty of fostering a fairy tale relationship," Chen smirks, pulling a small red velvet-covered box out of his pocket and handing it to a very self-conscious Xiumin.

Xiumin eyes his familiar as Amber giggles.  The conspiratorial tone has him shooting his gaze to the smirking young woman.  Even Elder Liu is wearing the hint of a smile.

"Why do I feel entirely set up?" Xiumin grumbles as he opens the box in his hands. 

Nestled within is a silvery snake coiled around a finger-sized void.  Its scales are intricately-carved and gleam gently as they march along the body and over the dangerous-looking head.  What do not gleam are the two faceted black stones set into the realistically-rendered eye sockets, giving the snake an otherworldly look.  He stares at the ring in awe, then lifts his appreciative gaze to the incubus wearing an entirely self-satisfied grin.

A coo and the digital click of a phone camera prompt Xiumin to once again shoot a glare at an entirely unrepentant Amber.

Recovering his decorum, Xiumin nods in satisfaction.  "Pretty but treacherous—a fitting representation of my dark-eyed darling."  He slides the ring onto his right index finger where it fits securely, then reaches for his tea with his now-bedecked hand.

"What, no kiss?" Amber pouts, phone camera once again at the ready.

Teacup still against his lips, Xiumin gives his husband a sidelong glance.  The idiot is making ridiculous duck-lips at him beneath mocking puppy eyes as fondness swamps the link.  Rolling his eyes, Xiumin sets the cup down as he swallows, then leans over to give those ridiculous lips a succinct smooch as the camera clicks again.

"Thank you, Chenny," Xiumin murmurs.  "It's perfect."  There's nothing better to represent the venomous creature that has him permanently encoiled and constantly entices him into moral ambiguity.

"Perfect like me?" Chen asks, batting his long lashes.

"No.  You're terrible," Xiumin states, but Chen's fond grin only widens because it's impossible to hide his true feelings from the fiend whose soul is linked to his.

"I'm glad you like it.  I asked Mr. Liu to design it for you after our last visit, since you liked the black sapphires so much."

"I helped," Amber declares.  "I sculpted the head.  It's fierce, right?"

"Very," Xiumin agrees, lifting his curled fingers to admire the ring again.  "You're really skilled.  How do you carve the metal with such detail?"

Amber laughs.  "We don't—we sculpt designs onto a basic ring shape made of a special wax.  Then we add wax projections to make sure all parts of the design are accessible before dipping the wax into liquid porcelain a bunch of times to make a mould.  Wax is much easier to work with, of course, and it also melts easily out of the clay, leaving a detailed impression.  Then we fill the mould with molten metal and let it harden."

The young designer grins.  "My favorite part is breaking open the mould to reveal the work," Amber says with glee.  "It's so much fun, and very symbolic to destroy something in order to create something else."

"What's the most common thing you get asked to design?" Xiumin asks.  

"It's China, so, dragons," Amber replies.  "To be honest, most of the custom dragons are based on a few stock designs that we just modify to personalize for the client.  But your snake was sculpted from scratch—even though we've done serpent rings before, they're often made without gems at all, letting the beauty come from the twining body.  If they do have gems, there's usually one in the mouth or set in the center of the head, or maybe small ones along the body or chips of rubies for eyes.  For the eyes to be the focus is less common, and it was a challenge to provide generously-sized settings while keeping good proportions between the head and body."

"You did a beautiful job," Xiumin says, letting himself ogle his bedecked finger again.

"She did indeed, although I was surprised when my son told me it was meant to be a sweetheart gift." Elder Liu comments, sipping her tea.  "A serpent is not a traditionally romantic choice,"

"We're not a traditionally romantic couple," Xiumin responds, smiling down at the new addition to his right fist.  The snake ring is a solid weight on his finger, too heavy to be silver.  Xiumin would bet on white gold, since gold is a traditional choice for wedding rings and this is as close to the traditional as the two of them are going to get.  He may not be the most romantic, but Xiumin still has to sip his tea again to keep his lips in check.  While Amber may be amused to watch the couple kiss, nobody wants to see the pair of them make out like teenagers.

But Chen unleashes his theatrical streak.  "It's romantic as hell," he protests.  "I'm totally wrapped around your finger.  And the Black Tortoise of mythology usually has a snake wrapped around it to create the Black Warrior, which is a perfect metaphor for our relationship since it represents strength and endurance."  He leans over to rest his head on Xiumin's shoulder and gaze up at him through those disgustingly-alluring eyelashes.  "You're my tortoise.  You're deliberate and contemplative in contrast to my squirming and darting, but you definitely hold up my whole world."

Elder Liu's eyes soften and Amber holds a hand to her chest as her face scrunches in a soundless coo.  Xiumin merely gives the lash-batting demon a judgemental look. 

"That was super gross, and I'm pretty sure you just called me old and slow."  

Chen's eyes crinkle at the corners as his face splits in a triumphant grin.  He cuddles closer, offering his forehead for a kiss.

With a scoff and an eyeroll, Xiumin gives in, briefly pressing his lips to his husband's stupid face.  "You're truly disgusting.  Finish your tea so I can take you home and spare the Lius the horror of your presence."  Xiumin knows he's leaking a continual stream of squishy feelings over the link due to the devious demon's thoughtful symbolism (even if it's total bullshit), and the human can't wait to deliver a proper thank-you behind closed doors.

At least Chen's demonstration of his devotion sets the mood back to pleasant rather than suspicious, and they spend another ten minutes chatting with the Lius about the jewelry trade and looking at photos of Amber's dog.  Then they bid the two women a respectful goodbye, trading bows and handshakes with Elder Liu and getting pulled into hugs by Amber.

"Can I come by sometime and pet your cat again?" she asks.

Xiumin trades a cautious look with Elder Liu.  "Uh, well, that's entirely up to you.  I mean, Taozi would love that, but if you spending time with us makes your grandmother uncomfortable, we should respect that."

The regal woman tilts her head.  "Can you guarantee my granddaughter will be in no danger, body or soul, from keeping company with you and yours?"

Xiumin offers a wry smile.  "I'm not bold enough to guarantee much of anything," he says.  "But I would do my best to look out for her, and would never knowingly allow her to be endangered."

Elder Liu gazes at him, eyes narrowed in consideration.  "We will discuss it as a family," she decides.  "But ultimately my granddaughter is an adult and makes her own choices, for better or worse."

Amber thrusts both fists in the air like an excited schoolkid despite having just been declared an adult.  "Yes!  Give Taozi a cuddle for me and tell him I'll visit soon."

Shaking his head at the enthusiasm of youth, Xiumin leads his familiar out the door of the Liu's shop.  He may or may not deliberately take Chen's hand with his right one so his new ring rests against his husband's skin.

 

With the Liu case as good as closed, Chen extracts a promise that Xiumin will stay home with Taozi (Lu had disappeared somewhere, much to Xiumin's contentment).  Evidently bored but still in energy-conservation mode, Kitty-Tao lounges on the synth-leather sofa, poking at a tablet with his nose while Xiumin busies himself with some very satisfying dusting and re-organizes all of his desk drawers.  Samtaro scurries around on the floor, chiming occasionally, and with Taozi's rumbling purrs, it's a very cozy and domestic way to spend an afternoon.

That night, after procrastinating by making sure Xiumin is fed and clean and the coffee machine is set up for the next morning and all the dinner dishes are washed and dried and put away and the entire kitchen is wiped down, Chen finally agrees to reward Taozi for his participation in the handling of the ingluvies.  It's incredibly awkward, especially at first, when a naked Chen puts on Sehun's shape and a naked Tao sobs in his arms and murmurs apologies and endearments.

"What are you sorry for?" Chen says with Sehun's voice.  "You're only an imp, but I never got sick and lived until ninety-seven.  I never even officially contracted you—you devoted your life to me anyway.  A mortal man couldn't have asked for more, and I passed away peacefully, entirely content and satisfied with my life."

"But I couldn't make you live forever," Tao sobs.  "I failed you, and you left me."

"You didn't fail me," Chen-Sehun murmurs, stroking Taozi's hair.  "My soul has moved beyond, and it certainly didn't end up in the abyss.  Keeping me here with you would have been selfish, and in your whole relationship with me, you've never been selfish.  That's one of the many, many things I loved about you.  So let me love you one last time, then let me go so we can both be at peace."

Taozi is still crying as Chen-hun starts kissing and touching him, though he responds through his tears.  It's still really uncomfortable for Xiumin to watch as he stands awkwardly off to the side, condom at the ready, Chen's apadravya jewelry clutched in his fist.  He's still in his boxer-briefs because he feels strangely guilty about being nude with anyone who isn't Chen, even though Chen is right in front of him, making out with another demon in a body that mimics that of someone Xiumin cherished long ago.

The tension is broken a bit when Tao looks down at Chen-hun's groin and snorts.  "Hunnie was bigger than that."

Chen-hun scoffs, and his figure alters a bit.  "Happy now?"

"Bigger."

Chen-hun lifts a brow, but alters his figure and keeps doing so until Taozi signals him to stop.  The incubus looks down at himself, then narrows his eyes at Tao, but the imp only shrugs.

"If I'm having this one last time, it better be as good as it always was.  Accuracy is important."

Chen-hun rolls his eyes but gathers Taozi close again, soon turning the imp's giggle into a sigh.

Xiumin squirms as he watches, feeling like he's intruding on something beautiful and intimate rather than participating in something sexy.  At least Taozi isn't crying anymore.

Eventually Chen-hun presses Taozi into the navy blue comforter of the guest bed, having absolutely refused to do this in the bed he shares with Xiumin.  Still murmuring praise and endearments to the imp, Chen-hun begins to prep Tao, slowly and with plenty of lube because Sehun believed Tao to be human and humans need lube to comfortably take anything up the ass, not to mention the baseball bat jutting from Chen-hun's crotch.

Doing his best to ignore how fucking surreal this entire scenario is, Xiumin sets Chen's piercing on the endtable and tosses the condom onto the comforter beside Chen-hun's knee.  Then he strips off his underwear, folding them neatly to set beside the piercing in a delaying tactic obvious even to himself. 

Sehun's ass, while shapely and currently presented to him nicely as Chen-hun kneels over Taozi's body, is not Chen's ass and is therefore not immediately arousing to him.  Even so, Xiumin picks up the bottle of lube and massages the oddly-familiar pucker between the unfamiliar cheeks.  Evidently when unfamiliar with the exact topography of a body he's mimicking, Chen leaves the part in question on default, somehow making Xiumin feel  _much_  more comfortable with this whole scenario.  He'll be fucking the same hole he always does, even if it's surrounded by a different body.

So Xiumin closes his eyes as he slides his fingers inside, giving the incubus two at once to start with like he always does when he bothers to prep his always-accomodating familiar at all.  The tight heat around his digits is as arousing as always, as is the grateful desire that licks across the link.  Chen is about to fuck Taozi because the human asked him to, but it's Xiumin that the incubus really wants.

Remaining silent and out of Taozi's line of sight to help preserve the illusion for the imp, Xiumin takes his time working Chen's hole open, stroking his prostate, toying with his rim.  It's odd that his attentions make Sehun moan or curse or mutter Taozi's name, so Xiumin ignores the vocalizations from both demons, keeps his eyes closed, and just focuses on the link he shares with his familiar.

Chen is feeling resentful, self-conscious, uncomfortable, and aroused.  The arousal spikes and throbs in rhythm with Xiumin's fingers, and the human feels a smile tugging at his lips as he teases, coaxing patterns, courting increases.  He has to open his eyes when Chen-hun shifts away from his fingers, waiting for the incubus to press the imp's knees to his chest, both spreading him wide and keeping those long legs away from the electrifying human behind him.

Xiumin moves forward to kneel on the bed as Chen-hun rolls on the condom, then presses his cock into the incubus as the incubus penetrates the imp beneath him.  He bites back his own moan, letting Taozi blend his ecstasy with Sehun's voice alone, but he sends his pleasure down the link so Chen will know how much the human loves being inside him even in this unusual configuration.

It's awkward for Chen-hun and Xiumin to both thrust, so after a few aborted attempts to find a rhythm, the incubus just relaxes his pelvis, focuses on kissing the imp between his elbows, and lets Xiumin do the driving for both of them.  Xiumin pays enough attention to the imp's breathy little whines to obey instructions of "faster" or "harder" or "Right there, Hunnie, fuck me just like this!"

Xiumin is surprised at first by how long Taozi takes to climax until he realizes that he's probably holding off as long as he can to make this fantasy last.  Thankfully, Xiumin has stamina to spare thanks to his tease of a demon, and he's able to fuck Chen-hun into Tao long and hard enough to drag a reluctant orgasm from the imp along with a shout and a fresh volley of tears.

Chen climaxes immediately afterward, and as he does, Xiumin can hear him murmuring in Taozi's ear.

"Yeah, my precious panda, feel your Hunnie throb inside you.  I'm always inside you, my love is always filling you to the brim.  Let it be a comfort, not a burden.  Your love always bouyed me up no matter the circumstances.  Let my love do the same for you, even if I'm beyond your reach."

Taozi just wails in response, and Xiumin, feeling like a coward, pulls his own erection out of Chen's hole, grabs the piercing and his underwear from the side table, and flees the room, carefully tugging the door closed behind him.  He could say he's letting Taozi have his last few moments with Sehun in private, but really, he's never felt more painfully uncomfortable in the entirety of his long life.  

Still, he doesn't begrudge the imp his last grasp at familiar comfort, though he's extremely glad Chen limited the offer to a one-time thing.  

 

Xiumin has gone almost completely soft by the time Chen enters their bedroom, closing and locking the door firmly behind himself.  He's back in his own usual body, furry ears and tail and leathery wings present and accounted for and gloriously familiar.

"I hate you so much right now," he whines, but the link is singing with need.  "I know I said I'd do it, but that was awful and I hated it and I was so glad you were there but then you fucking  _left_  me with that soggy, sobbing, sappy sack of an imp and—"

Xiumin sits up in bed, beckoning his familiar to his side.  "Come here, ChenChen."

Chen does so, ears flat, wings clamped tight against his back, tail thrashing madly behind him.  His whines are wordless now, but no less forceful as he climbs onto the bed.  The whines increase as Xiumin pushes the irritated demon onto his back, laying firm, possessive hands on abdomen and thigh as he settles between Chen's legs.

"Whose familiar are you, Chenny-Chenny?" Xiumin asks the pouting incubus, letting dominance and ownership blast across the link.  "Who do you belong to until the end of time itself?"

Chen's rigid body is still set into hateful lines but the link goes squishier than Xiumin has ever felt it.  "Yours," the demon answers, voice low and rough.  "You, Minseokkie."

Xiumin nods.  "And that's why you wear this."  Xiumin unscrews one head of the silver barbel before taking hold of the demon's limp cock and pushing the jewelry back through the piercing.  Chen flinches and hisses as sensitive flesh is stretched around the intruding metal, but he holds still and voices no objections as Xiumin fastens the barbel back together, ensuring the join is tight so it won't pinch the skin or work itself loose.

"And who do I belong to?" Xiumin asks when he sits back onto his heels to survey his work.  

Chen's cock twitches as he growls.  "Mine.  You're  _mine_ _,_  forever mine, my fucking scrumptious little cupcake."

Xiumin nods again.  "I am." he reaches over to the nightstand to grab the permanent marker Chen had drawn on him with a week ago.  All the Irish insults have faded away and been scrubbed off, leaving his pale skin a blank canvas once again.

"I'm yours, Chenny-Chenny, so stake your claim.  Write or draw whatever you want below the collar.  Take your time and think about it, make sure you're entirely satisfied before you use this piercing to fuck me into ecstasy and fill me with your demon jizz."

They swap positions, Xiumin spreading himself out on the bed for Chen's pleasure as the demon kneels over him, marker in hand.  "Why do I have to take my time?  I want to fuck you  _now_."

"Then fuck me first if you're so impatient," Minseok chuckles at his needy demon.  "But mark me up well when you're done, giving careful thought to what you draw and where."

"Why should I spend so much time when it's just going to wash off?" Chen demands, having already tossed the marker aside in favor of the lube.  The demon moans low and his cock springs back to life when he reaches between Xiumin's legs to find him already stretched and slippery and waiting for his husband's cock.

"Because in the morning, I'm going to look at myself in the mirror from head to toe, back and front," Minseok says, pausing to moan as Chen pushes that thick cock inside him, piercing dragging along his inner walls.  "I'm going to inspect your work, ChenChen.  And I'm going to pick my favorite and photograph it carefully, have you write it out again for me on paper, so I can have it tattoed in place permanently."

Now it's Chen's turn to moan, and then he's pounding into Xiumin forcefully, making sure the human will definitely feel it in the morning.  Xiumin grips his fervent lover's shoulders, pressing his metal-encircled right index finger firmly into Chen's flesh, imagining the snake's intricate scales imprinting tiny divots into the demon's skin.

In response to this subtle reminder of his claim, the demon shifts the angle of attack, tugging one of Xiumin's legs into the air and thrusting in short strokes, sliding the silver barbel in his cockhead over Xiumin's prostate again and again.  Chen has to work a little to shove the memories of the world's most awkward threesome from Xiumin's mind, but soon his brain is flooded with only pleasure as his familiar pants curses sandwiched by the human's name.

It takes a while, but when Xiumin finally comes all over his own chest it's like a spring of tension within that chest is uncoiled, leaving Xiumin free and floating in his eternal lover's arms.  He coos sleepy endearments as Chen cleans him up with filthy tongue and clean rag.  The demon always cleans him thoroughly, but this time he goes so far as to carefully pat Xiumin's skin dry all over, making sure no sweat will interfere with whatever masterpieces he's about to create.

It seems like it should tickle, but instead the marker moving over his inner thighs lulls Xiumin to sleep.

 

Even though it was his bright idea in the first place, Xiumin still jumps when he sees his reflection the next morning.  In typical give-him-an-inch fashion, there aren't a dozen or so discrete potential tattoos scattered over Xiumin's body.  Instead, his skin has been transformed into a monochrome work of graphic art.  He rolls his eyes at his own body in the mirror as he recognizes a repeated theme—many of the characters and words inscribed over his flesh say "Chen" or "Chen's" sometimes followed by an epithet or endearment.  The shaft of his penis is even encircled with rings of text in several languages, and the ones he can read inform him that his dick is Chen's and only Chen's for eternity.

Xiumin will admit to being fairly uneducated about tattoos, but he knows that they involve needles and require a certain pain tolerance.  He may be the stoic type of guy under pressure, but he's not stoic enough to hold perfectly still while a needle punches intricate patterns of ink into his dick.

But some of the other patches of decorated skin have potential.  There are words inked onto him that look nice enough although he has no idea what language they're in or what they say, and some of them are visually appealing enough that he'll have to ask his infernal polyglot to translate them for him so he can consider them.  For now, he focuses on the ones scribed in languages he can understand.

He snorts at the "Chen's Cupcake" written in Hangeul across one asscheek, but the simple, elegant Hanja for Chen's name on the other cheek is possessive but understated.  The English script across his lower back is a bit hard to read in the mirror, but he eventually deciphers it as "Chen's tasty boi" which, while amusing, is immediately removed from consideration.  But the one on his shoulder labeling him Chen's Prince in Hanzi is nice, as is the line of English calligraphy on his inner thigh that reads "Chen's one and only."  

Xiumin carefully photographs the ones he finds appealing, moving methodically from his feet upwards.  It's not until he's angling the screen to see the bold character for "eternity" scribed over his heart that he realizes the Hanzi isn't filled in with an array of patterns but is instead formed from other characters and words from several languages, curving around and inside each other in sweeps and swirls.  He can pick out his own name and Chen's in several places among other words like "cupcake" and "scrumptious" and "princeling" and "tortoise."  But there are also words like "kitty" and "brat" and "perfect wife" and "serpent", and as he stares at the image on his phone's screen, he realizes that every instance of a term describing himself is tangled with a term describing Chen, tied to one another in unbroken lines forged from at least a dozen languages.

It's less like a claim, and more like a promise.

Xiumin takes a lot of photos of that particular piece of art before he finally pulls on a shirt.

 

He's glad he did bother to fully dress before wandering to the kitchen in search of coffee, because all three demons are sat around the breakfast table.  There's a steaming cup of coffee in front of the empty place, but instead of sitting on the cold wooden chair, Xiumin picks up the cup and settles himself onto Chen's lap instead.

"Have a nice selfie session, Minseokkie?" Chen laughs.

Xiumin hides his stupid smile in his coffee mug.  "Why didn't you wake me up?" he asks.  "I thought you were working."

"I didn't want to distract you or smear my hard work," Chen smirks.  "Even if I did take plenty of my own photos while you were asleep."

Xiumin gives the smug demon a glare.  "That's just creepy," he chides.  "Speaking of creepy, why are you all loitering around my table?"

Xiumin already knows he's not going to like the answer.  He's sure Chen went hunting last night since he looks a bit frayed around the edges and his hunger is a dull undertone to the careful neutrality seeping over the link.  Lu's eyes are missing their mischievous sparkle, instead gazing into the middle distance, wide-eyed and serious.  And Taozi, endearingly puffy-faced from his sob session despite his impish nature, is wearing his catboy form and a somber outfit, espresso ears flat and tail twitching anxiously.  They're not sitting here for any fun reason, Xiumin is sure.

"We've been invited to a meeting," Chen says in an oh-so-casual voice as he wraps his arms around the human in his lap.

"More like 'summoned,'" Taozi mutters.

"It's a great honor," Lu argues.  "Very few have ever met DubDub himself, and even fewer have done so because  _he_  wanted information from  _them_ _._ "

Xiumin tenses.  Being called on the carpet in front of demonic royalty is less than comfortable.  "Why us?  What kind of information?"

"Relax, Minseokkie," Chen soothes, rubbing his palms up and down Xiumin's arms from elbow to shoulder.  "The meeting is between DubDub and the Temptress.  The four of us have just been included in her entourage."

"I don't see why I have to go," Taozi grumbles.  "I'm not one of her pawns."

"I'm not a pawn.  I'm more like a bishop or something."

"And I'm a rook.  Obviously." Lu flips his bangs out of his face.

"I don't want to be a playing piece of any kind," Xiumin states, giving Taozi a nod of solidarity.

"Too bad, you're obviously the white knight," Lu states.  "And poor Taozi really is a lowly pawn, I'm afraid."

"He is not," Xiumin defends.  "If I'm the white knight, he's the black one."

Taozi rolls his eyes and drums a heel on the leg of his chair.  "Whatever—I didn't sign up for this."

"I know, TaoTao, but you were there in the cemetery and with Minseokkie at Zunjing.  You're an important witness."

"You better be my witness protection, then, DaeDae.  I don't want to be hauled back to the abyss."

"You'll be fine," Chen tells the anxious imp.  "We'll all be fine.  We just give our stories when prompted, and stand there and look pretty for the rest of the time."

Enough coffee has entered Xiumin's system to move beyond reflexive discomfort and distrust and on to investigative curiosity.  "Why is DubDub meeting with the Temptress in the first place?"  

"Because Chen had a hunch that the jewel thieves may well be trapping souls in the stolen sapphires, but not human ones," Lu explains without taking so much as a sip of Xiumin's envy.  It's out of character enough to send chills down Xiumin's spine—or that sensation could be caused by the realization that trapped inhuman souls would explain why demons were disappearing.  Their earthly bodies would disintegrate, leaving practically no trace of what happened to them.

"So DubDub is having his pet triad hunt down and trap demons?" Xiumin's brows are hiding under his too-long bangs.  "Why is the Temptress offering him information when he's basically genociding everyone else's minions?"

"Because DubDub never answered when we asked around about the missing demons, but he sure answered when the Temptress sent him a message demanding he release the trapped demon souls or face the wrath of the rest of the abyss." 

"So, this is like, hostage negotiations or something?" Xiumin asks, still not sure why their testimony is required.

"Not exactly," Chen says.  "DubDub was typically vague in his reply, but the Temptress thinks that he doesn't actually have the missing souls.  She suspects that his mortals are... misbehaving."

Xiumin frowns, starting to piece together the purpose of this "entourage."  Chen is the Temptress's champion, so she needs the Death Dealer at her side to lend credence to her threats.  But she can't actually wield her favorite weapon without Xiumin's leave, so she needs her assassin's handler there as well.  Lu, as the Temptress's favorite liason, is bound to be present at any important negotiations.  And Taozi... well, Xiumin also questions the necessity of the imp's presence, but not enough to argue with uppity demon royalty.  

"Should I go put on a suit or something?" Xiumin asks.  "When is this meeting taking place?"

"As soon as you're ready, basically," Chen answers, giving him a squeeze.  "Time doesn't mean as much to ancient demon lords, though we shouldn't keep them waiting forever."

"But let's dress you up first," Lu says with a wicked smile.  "Tao and JD, too.  Not sexy, per se—DubDub doesn't care about that.  We need to look mysterious and skillful to impress him."

"So, we're dressing up as secret agents or something?" Xiumin lifts a brow.

"Basically.  It's a good thing you bought us all snazzy jackets."

Sighing, Xiumin follows the invidius to his closet, Chen on his heels and Taozi trailing reluctantly behind.

 

Tao had been unable to ignore Lu's deliberate attempts to offend his fashion sense, and had allowed the invidius to goad him into helping assemble a coordinated-but-not-matching set of outfits for the four of them (incorporating their new fancy-ass coats).  This involves a lot of black (surprise) but also subtle amounts of brighter colors, like the neon pink high-tops on Tao's feet, the bright green belt around Chen's hips, the shimmery turquoise shirt beneath Xiumin's black leather bomber, and the bright orange feather jauntily perched in the band of Lu's fedora.

Privately, Xiumin thinks they look a little like some pop group exploring a "retro-futuristic ninja detective" concept, but if Lu and Tao are satisfied, he's certainly not one to object.  And it feels pretty awesome to stroll through the lobby with Chen's silver-etched wakizashi at his hip, the incubus and his long black coat preceding him with the matching katana at his side.  With Taozi behind his right shoulder, trenchcoat swirling around his long legs and his collapsed wushu stick casually held in his fist, and Lu behind his left shoulder, wearing a wicked-looking pistol beneath his duster that Xiumin is afraid to ask about, the human feels much more confident than he should, given that he's about to stand in front of two powerful demon lords.

There's a long black limo waiting for them outside, and the four of them pile into the back.  Lu and Chen immediately start an intense discussion about the various things DubDub could want and how best to react to various offers and requests, while the "decorative" members of the Temptress's entourage offer each other wan smiles.

"Thank you, by the way," Tao offers shyly after a few moments of comfortable silence between them.  "For last night," he clarifies when Xiumin lifts a questioning brow.

"Oh," Xiumin says.  "We promised.  Um.  I'm glad you were satisfied."

Tao dips his chin.  "I know you hated it, though.  Both of you.  So I really appreciate it.  I think it really helped.  I mean, it still hurts—I still fucking miss him.  But I don't feel guilty anymore.  I don't regret allowing his soul to go free."

Xiumin nods once.  "Good.  We care about you, TaoTao.  So even though it was awkward, it was worth doing if it helped you to be more at peace."

Tao bobs his head, staring at his bright pink shoes.  Xiumin wishes he could lay a comforting hand on the imp's shoulder, squeezing his own knees in substitution. 

A companionable silence descends once again over their side of the car and Xiumin idly gazes out the window, watching the busy city pass by as Lu and Chen plot and bicker.  The incubus and invidius really do make a formidible pair, complimenting each other's attributes.  They're both chameleons, both charming, seductive, manipulative little shits, but Chen is hard where Lu is soft, subtle where Lu is flashy, calculating where Lu is intuitive.  They remind him a lot of Detective Do and Detective Byun, grating on each other's nerves but unstoppable when working together.  

Xiumin smiles through the tinted glass.  Their little chessboard analogy earlier was really quite apt—between a bishop and a rook, all avenues of escape are covered.  They can hem their quarry in, hunt it down, and dispatch it efficiently.  They're just as dangerous with their mouths as they are with the weapons at their hips, so this meeting doesn't need to be so intimidating.  All Xiumin and Taozi have to do is stand there while the other two placate and persuade.  

 

The limo stops outside of the type of cold, corporate hotel used for business seminars and convention accomodations.  The bright white plasteel-and-aluglass building is a monument to predictable efficiency, and Xiumin finds it strangely appropriate to have a meeting about missing souls in a building so soulless.

The four of them stride through the lobby, Chen taking point again while Lu and Tao fall into step side by side at Xiumin's back.  The human feels a little like some fancy dignitary being escorted by the demonic equivalent of the secret service or something, except he's dressed far more like a gangster in leather and denim with the bling of the Temptress's collar and Chen's ring.

In contrast, the actual gangsters (that Lu's murmur identifies as human members of the BCB) are dressed in understated business suits, though plenty of metal flashes around wrists and fingers and necks.  Xiumin's opinion of their own fashion goes up several notches—with the possible exception of Xiumin himself, their ensembles are runway-ready, and since they're currently strolling down an actual red carpet toward a long black table set up on a dais, it's understandable if they move with a certain swagger.

The Temptress herself certainly looks pleased with them, though that could have more to do with their obedience than their outfits.  Standing at the head of the table, she beckons them to join her, and the five of them spread out to flank the succubus queen, Chen and Xiumin to her left, Tao and Lu to her right.  Xiumin does not miss Chen's frown as he places himself between his human and the group at the far end of the table, evidently unhappy to let the queen be so close to what belongs to him.

The Temptress exchanges nods for bows with each of the four of them, then gestures for them all to sit in unison to face the elegant man who must be the Warden of Whispers.  The invidius prince is currently presenting himself as tall, broad-shouldered, fiercely handsome in what Xiumin is sure is a deliberate effort to intimidate.  But while it may work on the demon lord's human lackeys, it's less effective on demons that can also alter their shape or a human who's quite accustomed to seeing it happen.

"Now that your playthings have arrived, would you care to exchange titles and pleasantries, or would you prefer to cut straight to business?" the Warden asks in a voice like gravel in a stream.

"We aren't the one that needs their ego stroked," the Temptress responds.  "Nor are we the one who requested this little tete-a-tete."

The Warden scowls, face all planes and angles as if it were carved from ice.  "You may believe yourself to have the upper hand in this situation, but I will remind you that eternity is long and so is my memory.  If you make things difficult for me now, you'd better hope you never have need of my whispers in the future."

The Temptress smiles, looking vaguely predatory.  "Fair enough," she purrs, then looks at him expectantly.

Still scowling, the Warden spits his words across the table.  "With your polite cooperation, I would... owe you a favor."

The Temptress shifts in her seat, curling elegant fingers under her delicate chin.  "Go on."

"Your human agents—"

"Agent," the Temptress interrupts, trailing her free hand through Xiumin's hair.  "We just have the one.  He's all we need.  Isn't he pretty?"

The contact startles Xiumin—he's so used to being touched only by Chen (and the occasional human).  But of course the Temptress is immune to her pet human's collar, and a pet is exactly what Xiumin feels like as the succubus queen strokes his scalp.  It's not unpleasant—of course the queen of seduction would know how to please human flesh.  But the link is blinding him with Chen's jealousy, so while Xiumin does nothing to oppose the fingers in his hair, he twines his own fingers with his familiar's under the table.  Resting their clasped hands on his knee, Xiumin sends his deep attachment to his familiar over the link, assuaging the possessive beast enough to let him see again (though his head is still pounding).

"Agent, then," the Warden corrects.  "And I care less about his face than what's behind it.  He has evidently discovered clues to the twisted sickness that I must admit seems to stem from my own ward, and in exchange for your cooperation in eradicating this filth from my demesne, I would perform a boon for you."

"You could start by releasing the souls of my subjects," the queen suggests with an arched brow.

The Warden's face goes so tight Xiumin briefly imagines it will crack.  "That's the thing," he admits.  "I can't release what I don't have."

The queen takes her hand back to herself to clasp it along with the other under her chin, bringing immediate relief to Xiumin's pounding skull as the worst of Chen's jealousy subsides.  Tilting her head kittenishly, the Temptress blinks big eyes at the Warden.  "But you know who has them?  Do you need my Death Dealer to retrieve them?"

Xiumin watches the Warden's jaw muscles flex before he answers.  "I don't  _know_  who has them, and my own web is missing quite a few spiders as well.  Since your pretty little human is so clever, and you have the Death Dealer at your disposal,  I consent to allow them to infiltrate the Big Circle, find the traitor and their tools, and permanently end the lot of them."


	7. Despurrate Meowsures

The Temptress's laugh rings out like a bell.  "You want us to spy on your spies for you?"

The Warden scowls in response.  "This situation is untenable for everyone.  Let's not make it worse than it already is."

"Ah, lighten up a little," the Temptress smirks.  "It's said that every man experiences performance failures now and again."

Xiumin has to bite the inside of his cheek to maintain a straight face when he realizes the succubus queen just told the invidius lord that "it happens to all guys."

"But if your skillful spies have failed to perform, we're unsure what you think an assassin can do for you.  An arrow is only useful if the archer has a target."

"And a dangerous target calls for a wicked arrow," the Warden states.  "Finding that target requires a clever little human unfazed by demons or cruelty, one that is unfamiliar to those I mistrust.  I could cultivate my own, of course, but since this human needs to have a familiar already in order to be considered for membership, it seems expedient to use a human with a familiar that has no vested interest in me or mine yet will be instantly recognizable by any demon he encounters.  My loyal spiders will not interfere with the infiltration, and any that do will be subjected to... further inquiry."

The Temptress lifts a brow.  "So you need an infamous demon and an unknown human?"

"I have determined that would be the combination most likely to succeed."

"We are reluctant to risk our agent to sort out another's tangled web," the Temptress says, running her fingers through Xiumin's hair once more.  "And we are especially reluctant to risk losing our Death Dealer to some rogue spider's trap."

The Warden presses handsome lips into a tight line.  "I understand, hence my willingness to issue the first and only carte blanche in my entire existence."

The other brow joins the first in climbing the Temptress's refined forehead.  "We acknowledge the value of the offered compensation, but more information is required before we are willing to agree."  

The invidius lord nods.  "The final ways and means are of course up to the operatives involved, but my suggestion is that your pretty little human begin to attend the house parties at which those who believe they lead the BCB like to recruit promising humans to the Inner Circle.  At first he will be attending alone—or at least appearing to be alone—as the human higher-ups like to play at respectability to lull Beijing's high society."

Hot opposition lances across the link and Xiumin's fingers are all but crushed under the table.

"My agents will coach yours on how to be an appealing potential member, and I have no doubt that soon your pet human will be invited to the gatherings held exclusively for the Inner Circle.  He'll be expected to bring his familiar to show off, and one as powerful as your Death Dealer will certainly not fail to impress.  Your human will be inducted, and the VIP invitations that follow will allow the pair frequent access to the highest ranks of the BCB.  The traitor must be someone with enough influence to induce the rank and file to cooperate and the charisma to convince them to die before giving up their superiors.  They obviously think they can hide their transgressions from me and use Big Circle resources for some personal vendetta, but I will not be outmaneuvered in my own demesne.  The Abyss will not be goaded to war by human hands."

The Warden's jaw is set and his glower is broadcasting power and rage, but the Temptress merely rests her perfectly pointed chin in the palm of an elegant hand.  "We shall have to consider this proposition," she says casually.

Xiumin bites his cheek again, because what the succubus queen really means is "I need to talk my pet human into cooperating."  And that means Xiumin must diffuse all of Chen's rage and objections, and he's not at all sure he even wants to.

But the Warden evidently expected this meeting to merely open the negotiations rather than secure an immediate alliance, because he only nods at one of his goons to carry a data chip down to Lu, evidently well known as the Temptress's liaison.

"The chip contains information that will enable your operatives to have every advantage, which we freely offer in good faith.  I cannot promise it will be without risk, but it is in everyone's best interest that this rot is cut out and destroyed.  Therefore I will await your decision," the Warden says.  His bow is perfectly polite, but the words sound like they taste foul in his mouth.

"We shan't keep you waiting overlong," the Temptress purrs, inclining her head in response.

Then the Warden and his goons execute additional respectful bows before exiting the room, leaving the Temptress alone with her entourage.  

In response to her questioning brow, Xiumin and Chen speak as one.  "I don't like this," they both say in unison, drawing one corner of the Temptress's lips into an upward curve.

"We are also uneasy," the Temptress admits.  "We would not have the Death Dealer added to the ranks of the missing."

"I don't want Xiumin going to triad parties by himself," Chen states.  "His collar doesn't protect him from bullets or poison or other human treachery, and if he dies, you lose me just as much as if this traitor manages to off me."

The Temptress nods.  "We would not even consider sending our favorite human into peril unless failing to do so would leave all of us vulnerable to permanent harm."

"He just said I had to  _seem_  to be alone," Xiumin points out.  "If Chen is nearby and I feel at all uneasy, he'll know."

"It won't do either of us any good if you're attacked with subtlety or surprise," Chen protests.  "If we know the missing demons are connected to some rogue operative of the BCB, can't we just cut our losses and move to a country free from their influence?"

"That may keep our human and his familiar safe, but if these disappearances don't stop, it's quite possible the entire abyss will be thrown into war again," the Temptress reasons.  "The Death Dealer of all demons should know that eventuality must be avoided."

"Why should I care when I can take Xiumin to some protected place in the mortal realm?  If neither of us are killed, the state of the abyss matters little to me, and if he's killed I won't care what happens to me."

"If another war can be laid at your feet, even if by inaction, no corner of the earth will be safe for either of you," the Temptress promises.

The white-hot rage flashing over the link is enough to make Xiumin gasp and curl around a fist held over his scalding chest.  Immediately Chen's arms are around him, remorse tempering the rage to a manageable level.

"I want every possible protection for him," Chen demands.  "Body armor, some way to counter toxins, some type of collateral that will encourage the Warden to ensure no harm befalls Xiumin.  Lu must swear to protect him, too.  And Taozi must be inducted into my service."

The imp's head lifts from his apparent scrutiny of the tabletop.  "What?"

But the Temptress is nodding.  "We had already intended to demand a hostage and provide our favorite human with as much protection as is discreetly possible," she assures the incubus.  "And Lu is sworn to our service already, which means he's obligated to protect our interests or forfeit his existence."

Xiumin looks over at Lu, who seems entirely unconcerned about his queen's reminder of his onus.  The invidius is too busy looking back and forth from Taozi to Chen, evidently trying to make sense of the last demand.

"You may induct any unaffiliated lower-ranking demon into your service as you see fit, though should you start assembling an army you may find your existence difficult at best," the Temptress continues.  

"I don't need an army to protect my Xiumin," Chen dismisses.  "I just want someone sworn to take care of him if anything happens to me."

Xiumin might laugh at his demon's self-conscious tone if it didn't sound like the human was being bequeathed to the imp in Chen's will or something.

"I already said I'd help," Taozi whines.  "You don't need to bind me."

"I do if I want you to be able to safely touch him," Chen grumbles.  "What if you need to carry him away from danger while I fight it off?"

Taozi frowns.  "If you want me to be able to touch him, then he can just bind me to himself," he protests.  "He can have more than one familiar."

"No," Chen spits, face carved of murder.  "He doesn't need more than one familiar.  I am the only one whose soul will ever be bound to his."  His arms tighten around Xiumin, but it's the intense possessiveness coiling from the link that squeezes the human in place.  "Besides, I don't want him to be able to override your orders.  He has no sense of self-preservation and an inflated sense of civic responsibility."

Taozi rolls his eyes.  "Fine.  But the contract must be limited to Xiumin's protection.  I'm not doing your fucking laundry."

"Nobody gets to fold his underwear but me," Chen says.

His familiar's tone is so serious that laughter threatens to escape Xiumin's throat.  He's never seen a horror movie where a possessing demon insists on doing the host's laundry—Hollywood is missing a golden opportunity to truly confound an audience.

There's a lot more bickering between the two as they hammer out the rest of the terms and conditions, then they slash each other's wrists and lick away the welling blood.  These demonic contracts sure seem to involve a lot of bodily fluid exchange.  Xiumin is quite glad he and Chen are bound with a much less painful alternative.

He's even more glad when a beaming Taozi wraps him up in a bear hug without even a trace of electrical activity from the collar.

"You're to protect him, not cuddle with him," Chen gripes, attempting to tug Xiumin out of Taozi's encompassing arms.

"Just be grateful you don't have to pet him for me anymore when I need to feed him," Xiumin points out with a laugh, but he allows himself to be pulled from one demon's grasp into the other's.

"I don't want you feeding him any more than absolutely necessary," Chen reminds him, but Xiumin and Taozi exchange a smile and an eye roll over the incubus's head.

"You're the only one whose soul is bound to mine, you big possessive baby," Xiumin murmurs into his familiar's ear.  

The incubus opens his mouth to protest but his whines are abruptly cut off by Lu's low whistle.

"Wow, DubDub must be fucking  _desperate,_ " the invidius declares, sliding a big-screen tablet into the center of the table.  "He's basically given us the keys to his fucking kingdom."

The Temptress scrolls through the provided documents with a graceful fingertip and an arched eyebrow.  There appear to be schedules, blueprints, membership rosters, lists of the missing demons and with whom they were affiliated, and other documents whose purpose Xiumin doesn't immediately understand.

"We are truly impressed," the Temptress says.  "We shall still demand the Warden's pride as a hostage until mission completion, but we shall allow her to retain the only copy of this chip and return both daughter and data intact."

Now Xiumin's own brows lift.  For two abyssal power players to display trust and respect so freely makes him think they're terrified of this hidden threat much more than they are of each other.  It's looking more and more like avoiding this task is impossible.

Chen seems to have come to the same conclusion.  "I'll send you his measurements," he informs the Temptress.  "Make sure the armor is both blade- and bullet-resistant."

The Temptress inclines her head.  "Of course.  We will also provide a ring of detection for human-endangering toxins, which would be uncommon but not unheard of for a paranoid demonist to have their familiar acquire for them.  Using it will be discreet enough—it will heat in response to the strength of any toxins it's exposed to, though the wearer should keep in mind that strong alcohol will register as toxic even when un-doctored."

Xiumin nods his understanding.

"I still hate this," Chen says.

"You'll hate being hunted again even more," the Temptress responds coolly.  "Our Xiumin is at risk either way, but cooperation will mean the risk is temporary instead of persistent."

Another flood of possessiveness from the link makes Xiumin resign himself to all of the bite marks he'll be wearing as soon as his familiar has him safely alone.

 

Chen does indeed wreck him that night, sliding his dick into Xiumin alongside three fingers that ensure every move the human makes the following day reminds him of exactly who he belongs to.  And he does a lot of moving, because Chen has him and Taozi running defensive drills between the trees of a forested park, barking orders and sending specific sensations over the link to get both the white knight and the black one to end up exactly where the bishop wants them.

Xiumin gamely runs the gauntlet for hours and when he finally collapses in a panting heap, Chen spars with Taozi and his stick for another several hours while the human dozes in the grass.  When Chen finally rouses him to go home he's proffering a smile and an ice cream cone, link so fat with fear-tinged adoration that Xiumin can't possibly be peeved at his overprotective familiar.

They practice physical drills every other day for a week, and on the intervening days Xiumin works with Lu and DubDub's "daughter," an invidius the demon lord has been grooming as his second in command.  She presents herself as a wide-eyed schoolgirl, short skirt and tight blouse reminiscent of the typical attire of a succubus rather than one who feeds on human envy.

"I'm Sulli," she introduces with an aegyo pout.  "And I'm the prettiest girl in school."

Ah, Xiumin gets it now.  She's probably installed herself as the queen bee in some private high school's gossip network, grooming her own human entourage without their awareness.  It's quite clever, really, especially considering how her mentor commands influence among the powerful, and corrupt—mostly men in their thirties to fifties.  Cultivating a network of privileged young women will yield a new web for their spiders to crawl.

Lu and Sulli really enjoy subjecting Xiumin to "coaching" which is basically just verbal abuse.  Evidently most demonists are assholes (as Chen has repeatedly informed him), and they apparently delight in witty repartee with potential new Inner Circle members.  Therefore the wicked pair do their best to bait and fluster and rile Xiumin up, disappointed when the former cop and current demon's spouse appears to be completely unflappable.

"Who are you and what have you done with our easily-goaded Inspector Minseokkie?" Lu asks when the largest reaction they get from Xiumin after hours of harassment is a raised eyebrow. 

"Oh, he's plenty goaded," Chen laughs from where he's studying the information on the Warden's chip.  "The link is on fire with his irritation.  He's just making an effort to hide it for once."

Lu pretends to harrumph in disgust but the smile he flashes the human betrays his pride and approval of the human's skills.

Two days before the introductory party, Lu shows up with a garment bag and a small box.  "Your outfit, Monsieur," the invidius mocks, laying out an expensive-looking three-piece suit along with a fancy shirt and tie and even a pair of knee-length socks and a set of long-legged boxer briefs.

"The more layers over an area, the more protection the ballistic fabric affords," Lu explains.  "So your torso, with the shirt, jacket, and waistcoat, is going to have the most, since that's where most of your important bits are."

"And remember Spirit Mountain," Chen says, as if that's an experience that will ever fade in Xiumin's mind.  "This won't keep you from getting hurt so much as it will hopefully keep you from being mortally wounded.  Catching a bullet is still going to feel like being hit by a truck and your head has no protection at all, so try not to stand in front of anyone's gun."

"Noted," Xiumin nods.  He's not in a hurry to endure another flail chest and he likes his brains where they are.

The small box turns out to contain a chunky ring carved from a single piece of striated dark purple stone.

"Just touch it to anything you want to test," Lu explains.  "Drip liquid onto it, rest it on food, whatever.  It'll heat up to match the degree of toxicity but it won't actually damage you.  You don't need to rip it off and throw it if it feels like your finger is on fire, just go wash your hands or spill your water glass over it or something."

"And remember about the alcohol," Chen lectures.  "I don't want you drinking anything hard anyway.  But we'll test it with beer and wine so you can feel the normal heat level and know if your drink's been spiked."

Xiumin bites back declarations of his adulthood and competence.  There's enough trepidation bouncing back and forth over the link that it almost feels comforting to be treated like a forgetful schoolkid for once.

 

The suit looks damn good on him—not that Xiumin expected anything less from the literal queen of seduction—causing even Taozi to raise an appreciative brow.  He's acting as Xiumin's driver, mostly so he can release the two black birds secreted in the sleek towncar's trunk along with the swords, wushu stick, and pistol.  Chen's jackdaw is smaller than Lu's rook, but the latter's bone-white beak is the easiest way for Xiumin to distinguish the two in low light.  They'll be lurking at windows to keep an extra eye on Xiumin, not daring to accompany him inside since DubDub's data chip indicated the host's demonic staff would be able to immediately recognize any fellow abyssal denizens on sight.

So after Taozi opens the back door for him with a deep bow, Xiumin enters the mansion alone.  He carries himself with a subtle swagger, comfortable projecting the "I belong here and can probably kick your ass" vibe that has served him so well as an investigator in seedy neighborhoods.  The servant at the door examines his gold-embossed invitation beneath a black light, revealing the authenticating ultraviolet stamp before bowing and gesturing Xiumin to enter.

_Rich people._   Xiumin has to force himself not to wrinkle his nose as he drifts through the foyer and into the Grand Ballroom, not at all impressed with the ostentatious display of affluence that someone evidently considers "decor."  Sure, Xiumin isn't exactly knocking on the door of the poorhouse himself, but at least he has  _taste._   He may not always make the most elegant fashion choices but he knows the difference between classy and tacky when it comes to furnishing his home.  

That's not to say he doesn't have anything cheesy or sentimental hanging on his walls, but he's sophisticated enough to keep his faded TVXQ poster and juvenile manga collection in his bedroom—in an ornate frame and a designer bookshelf, no less.

"I don't remember seeing you here before," comes a contralto voice from Xiumin's left.

When he turns to identify the speaker, a curvy woman in a red sequined evening gown stalks toward him on long legs made longer by lethal-looking stilettos.

"I'm Ying Rushi, and it would be my  _pleasure_  to be your  _personal_  escort for the evening, Mister...?"

"Yao Bingyu," Xiumin introduces himself with a bow, letting his gaze rake Rushi's form before offering his arm to the seductive woman.

"Bingyu?" Rushi giggles as she curves red-lacquered fingers around his bicep.  "As in, 'clean as ice and pure as jade?'"

"My parents had lofty ideals for their only son.  Alas, growing up in Guangzhou made sure I was neither clean nor pure by the time I came of age."

Rushi gives his bicep a squeeze.  "Being strong and flexible is more effective anyway," she purrs.  "Let me introduce you to others that share such traits."

"I would be honored to meet such."  Xiumin smirks at Rushi.  "I do value...  _flexibility_ in a companion."

Rushi's laugh is like breaking glass.  It pairs well with the stabbing jealousy Chen is leaking through the link.

Rushi indeed proves to be a charismatic escort, leading Xiumin from knot to knot of overdressed, self-important rich folks while rubbing her curves against Xiumin's arm way too frequently to be accidental.  He flatters her with compliments and hand-feeds her various hors d'oeuvres plucked from the trays of passing waitstaff but he also flirts shamelessly with said waitstaff, male or female, doing his best irreverent-playboy impression to discourage Rushi from getting any proprietary ideas.  The sequin-clad woman doesn't seem bothered by this spreading of Xiumin's attention, going so far as to pinch the ass of a cute young man carrying a tray of petit fours.

Xiumin is greasily agreeable with everyone he's introduced to, making off-hand references to gambling and carousing in response to casual mentions of drugs and prostitutes.  It seems like he's had the same conversation at least a dozen times before he finally ends up in a clump of people containing a man Xiumin recognizes from the dozen or so headshots included on DubDub's data chip.  Yan Quianlong, one of the human "recruiters" for the BCB's Inner Circle, is a slim man with a pretentious mustache that he frequently smooths over his upper lip with forefinger and thumb.

Xiumin transitions into playing the respectful reprobate, laughing and joking about extortion rackets and police bribery.

"You'll find the police here aren't as cooperative as those in Guangzhou," Mr. Yan laments.  "It's hard to even evade a solicitation charge if you're dumb enough to be caught with a prostitute."

"Then it's just as well I have no need for such," Xiumin smirks.

"Oh?" Mr. Yan leers.  "Quite the player, are you?"

"When it amuses me," Xiumin agrees.  "But when I'm not in the mood for cat-and-mouse, I have captive entertainment."

Mr. Yan's thin lips stretch into a predatory smile.  "Ah, many of us also enjoy keeping a pet or two," he says.  "We can give you tips on the best places to snatch a new one when you get tired of the old."

Xiumin inclines his head.  "Thank you for such consideration," he says.  "But I prefer to get my little toys from rather... unconventional sources."

Thin eyebrows lift over Mr. Yan's beady eyes.  "Unconventional, you say?"

"Yes," Xiumin nods.  "I prefer to acquire a sturdy, versatile toy, one bound only to me.  I'd rather put the training in once, knowing I won't have to bother with it again unless I become bored."

"You seem like the sort of person who would appreciate the more exclusive environment of our social club," Mr. Yan leers, offering Xiumin a business card that he accepts with both hands.  "Feel free to bring your toy with you to the soiree on Saturday."

"I'll look forward to it."  Xiumin bows his thanks before letting Rushi draw him away.

"I can't wait to see how you like your toys," she purrs.  "I find it rather interesting how one's pet often reflects the owner."

Xiumin again rakes lecherous eyes over her sequin-spangled body before shaking his head with a smirk.  "Does this mean we'll see you at the soiree with your own little plaything?"

Rushi smirks in response to Xiumin's rakishly-elevated brow.  "You'll just have to wait and see."

 

"I'll kill that trollop," Chen snarls as he strips Xiumin's suit off and flings the elegantly-disguised ballistic fabric onto the bedroom floor.  "I'm going to murder her.  You fucking  _reek_  of slut perfume."  

Xiumin doesn't resist as his irate familiar carries him to the shower and scrubs him repeatedly with both his own herbal-mint-scented toiletries and Chen's spicy cinnamon three-in-one.  He's evidently been drinking a lot of water or is able to distill urine from pure rage, because he thoroughly sprays Xiumin's legs between each scrubbing session.  He also diligently replaces all the bite marks from last week that had only just faded away, and Xiumin is not at all surprised when Chen growls that he'll have four fingers in Xiumin's ass while he fucks him.

And Xiumin plays the good little sub, the whimpering, helpless prey, letting his familiar reinforce his ownership however he likes.  He can hardly do anything else when the link is pounding with fear and love and apprehension and defiance.  His Chenny is terrified of losing him, terrified of their perfect life being permanently interrupted, and Xiumin is willing to do whatever it takes to reassure his familiar (and himself).

"You'll be right by my side from now on," Xiumin pants as he's pounded into the mattress.  "I'm only yours, and you belong wholly to me."

"Forever," Chen growls above him.  

"Forever," Xiumin agrees, and the feedback loop of desperate affection triggered by this mutual declaration tosses both of them over the edge of ecstasy, screaming all the way down.

 

At the soiree, Xiumin has to fight the urge to head screaming for the door.  The entire atmosphere seems greasy, even though everyone's wearing impeccably-tailored designer suits.  Both Chen and Xiumin's suits are made from ballistic fabric this time, and Taozi has styled them both to look sharp and dangerous.  

"Bingyu?" a familiar contralto calls, so Xiumin turns with a flirty smile.

"Rushi," he responds, returning the woman's handsy embrace in kind.  She's wearing a slinky black dress this time, cut dangerously low in front, and Xiumin is sure the press of curves against his chest is deliberate.  The link begins to churn with Chen's jealousy, of course, so Xiumin sends love and desire back to his possessive familiar.

"Is this really your pet?  I expected some delicate little waif."  She raises a brow.  "Are you sure you haven't taken your bodyguard inside and left your toy in the car?"  The silent man at her heels is much more gracile and submissive than the hard-eyed, straight-backed incubus.

Xiumin laughs.  "Xun becomes quite delicate when I'm in the mood for that," he smirks.  "But as you said when last we met:  Being strong and flexible is very...  _effective._ "

"I did indeed," Rushi purrs, accepting Xiumin's offered arm. 

Half a step behind his human, Chen's face is blank as they stroll off toward the refreshments, but the possessiveness blasting over the link is as bright as an ultra-neon sign.

Xiumin keeps Rushi's wine glass full but swirls the same tumbler of whiskey all night, waiting for an opportunity to greet Mr. Yan.  It's after midnight when Rushi's meandering path intersects with the BCB recruiter's.

"Ah, Mr. Yao, was it?  I am glad you were able to make it," the mustached man greets.  A brow lifts when one of the burly, sunglasses-wearing men behind him leans forward to murmur in his ear.

"I find myself intrigued by your choice of entertainment," Mr. Yan says.

"Ah, but aren't you already familiar with the lovely Ying Rushi?" Xiumin asks, leering at the woman on his arm with a blatant glance at her cleavage.

"Yes, we are all well acquainted with the brazen hussy," Mr. Yan dismisses.  "But I was referring to your silent shadow."

Xiumin had known that, of course, but he continues the charade of indifference by glancing briefly over his shoulder.  "Oh, Xun?  I don't take him out with me very often, but you did say this was the place for it.  It's strange to see him wearing clothes—I keep assuming he's one of the waitstaff."

Now he has Mr. Yan's total attention.  "He doesn't look like a typical plaything."

Xiumin looks around at the meek-looking creatures trailing many of the guests, then shrugs.  "I'm not a typical man."

A shadow creeps over Mr. Yan's face.  "So, you're interested in male companionship?"

Xiumin shrugs again.  "I'm interested in power.  Where's the rush in forcing oneself on some frail little thing when one could impose their will on something truly dangerous?"

Mr. Yan's expression transforms from vaguely disgusted to quietly impressed.  "I can see the appeal," he nods.  "Why don't you join me on my private balcony and tell me more."

Rushi beams and claps her hands, sparking her overexposed flesh to attempt to jiggle free of the skintight bodice.  "Yes, some fresh air would be delightful!"

Mr. Yan barely spares her a glance.  "In that case, please avail yourself of the gardens," he suggests, beckoning for Xiumin to accompany him.

"You don't want to be stuck listening to dull old men discuss business," Xiumin murmurs, patting her arm before disentangling himself.  "I'll look forward to finding you afterward to save me from death by boredom."

"Oh, I'll definitely entertain you well," Rushi promises with a lingering glance south of Xiumin's belt.  "I'm no frail little thing."

Xiumin pivots, walking backward while ogling the woman's ample bosom.  "No.  No you are not," he smirks, then follows Mr. Yan through a set of double doors opened by yet another pair of burly, sunglasses-wearing men.

He leads Xiumin through a luxe lounge and out through plate glass doors to an opulent balcony done in the flashy modern style blended with small nods to traditionalism.

"Have a seat," Mr. Yan invites as his brutes take up positions on either side of the doors they just passed through.  "There are mats available to protect your pet's clothes, unless you'd prefer to remove them."

Xiumin waves the suggestion away, settling into one of the plush synth-leather easy chairs arranged around a crackling fire pit.  "He knows he'll be punished if he damages them," he says, snapping his fingers and pointing at his feet.

Amusement burbles across the link even as Chen shoots Xiumin a resentful glare before bowing his head and kneeling on the rough flagstones.

"Such discipline!" Mr. Yan praises.  "Wanju, I've been spoiling you."

In response to his words, a nude woman emerges from a designer dog house, a heavy chain attached to a thick silver ring that pierces her leg just above the ankle, evidently threaded between the pair of bones.  She crawls toward the chair Mr. Yan sinks into and kneels between his spread knees.

"I prefer defiling beauty rather than subjugating strength, myself," he says.  "Do you mind if I indulge?"

"Not at all," Xiumin answers, forcing his disgust to remain buried.

"Feel free to join me," Mr. Yan invites as the chained girl unzips his fly.

"You go ahead," Xiumin demurs.  "Xun hasn't earned it yet." 

It's incredibly petty, but Xiumin sends pride and machismo down the link when he catches a glimpse of Mr. Yan's rather modest manhood before it disappears between the girl's lips.  Chen sends pride and affection right back, in stark contrast to his meekly-kneeling facade.

"Ah," Mr. Yan says, sounding rather distracted. "He must be very well trained if serving you is a reward." His face twitches a little as the girl begins to bob her head with intent.  "I've never seen a nightmare so obedient."

Xiumin chuckles.  "He's not a nightmare."

"Shadow, then?" The inquiry is rather breathy.  "I've never had one.  They're so versatile, but they're such a pain to feed."

"Not shadow, either," Xiumin says.  "Most people have trouble identifying a male lust devil.  They're evidently uncommon."

Mr. Yan leans forward in surprise, causing the girl in his lap to choke.  "A lust devil?  An uncommon choice, indeed.  Is it hard to keep him fed?  I can't imagine he leaves his meals in one piece."

"Actually, feeding him is the best part," Xiumin lifts a suggestive brow.  

"Oh?  Is the process entertaining to watch?"

"It's more entertaining to participate.  I like things... rough, we'll say.  And I haven't bound him to this form—he'll assume any shape I happen to fancy at the given moment.  He feeds well if suffering is involved, even if it's his own.  Have you ever enjoyed a night with a movie star?  Or stabbed someone in the middle of hate sex?  Perhaps your taste in playmates runs outside what the law considers... acceptable?"

Mr. Yan's eyes light with sick delight.  "Oh, I can see how a lust devil could be _very_ interesting to feed," he moans as the girl deep-throats him.  "Perhaps I'll give one a try when this one wears out."

"They're not for everyone," Xiumin warns.  "They're fun to feed but quite challenging to train.  I rather enjoy the contest of wills, but it's understandable that most would prefer a more docile toy."

Mr. Yan grunts through his climax.  "Yes," he sighs.  "I do prefer a more relaxing experience."

"I don't blame you in the least," Xiumin chuckles, swallowing down the urge to vomit.  Chen sends amusement and reassurance over their link, which helps remind Xiumin why they're here.

"I must say it's nice to find a like-minded individual," he says conversationally.  "It's fun to bend a devil to my will, but it's even more fun to show him off."

Mr. Yan laughs.  "Yes, it's much less satisfying to gloat over one's achievements alone," he agrees, tucking himself back into his pants.  "Your toy looks rather sturdy.  I bet he'd do well in our cheeky little Yaoguai games."

"Oh?"  Xiumin feigns interest instead of revulsion.

 "Yes," Mr. Yan grins.  "And if he turns out to be as impressive as he looks, I bet the Dragon Master himself will take notice."

Xiumin lifts a brow.  "Do I want this Dragon Master to take notice?"

Mr. Yan shrugs amiably.  "His patronage opens many doors."

Xiumin lets his lips curve into a wicked little smile.  "I do find doors to be much more useful to me when they're open," he nods.

 

Except that Xiumin is fairly sure that this door leads to Pandora's closet. 

"I have to do  _what?_ "  Xiumin tries to stand up to pace away his agitation, but his extra-clingy demon pins him to the sofa.

"These guys thrive on power," Lu begins.  "And they like to demonstrate that power via cruelty to their familiars, since demons aren't human and therefore have no rights or recourse if abused."

"That's not power," Xiumin sneers.  "Only someone weak would glory in tormenting the helpless."

Chen squeezes him tighter.  "Tell that to every human who'd ever summoned me before you," he says.  "There's evidently something addicting about torturing a creature that  _could_  rip you apart but is forbidden to do so."

"No.  It's addicting that you let me dominate you, hold still while I tease you, pretend to be vulnerable for me when you could turn the tables at any time."

Chen's smirking lips and rolling hips collide with Xiumin's own, tugging a happy little hum from the human.

Kitty-Tao hisses from the cushy cat bed Xiumin had tucked against the desk.

"Yeah, stop being gross and pay attention," Lu chides.  "If you want to be inducted into the Inner Circle, you'll have to be absolutely cruel and ruthless to your familiar, just like they are.  There will be 'party games' that show off how 'subjugated' their demons are.  These will certainly result in horrific injuries, and you must be cold as ice and hard as jade.  The strongest reaction you can show is mild annoyance that you have to patch your demon up—you cannot demonstrate any sort of empathy for JD at all.  He's an object for your glorification, without feelings, without personality.  A breathing robot, waiting to be broken down and built back up at your whim."

Xiumin is shaking his head way before Lu finishes his little speech.  "Absolutely not."

Chen traps his face between warm hands and kisses him softly.  "You must," he says.  "It endangers both of us and the entire abyss if you do not."

Xiumin looks at his beautiful demon, so fierce and determined and willing to suffer to get the information they need.  "I don't know if I can be so cruel to you, Chenny," he confesses.  "It's been a really long time since I hated you."

Chen snorts.  "You weren't cruel to me even when you hated me.  But this is a game we have to play.  You're an actor in a show—Bingyu will be the one being cruel to his numb, mindless familiar.  It won't actually be real."

"But our souls are connected—there's no way I can ignore your pain when it's reflected back at me."

The incubus smirks around another kiss.  "But you know I'm into pain, Minseokkie.  You hurt me all the time and I beg for more.  Just... think of it like the times you throw me around and treat me like your bratty little sub, only to an extreme degree.  I know you love me for far more reasons than that I take your dick well, even when you're pulling my hair and blistering my skin and calling me your pretty little cocksheath.  I'm going to know you adore me even when you're abusing and degrading me in front of evil sadists.  The link will prove it—I'll be glaring at you resentfully like a properly-enslaved demon, but you'll know that I'm not holding anything against you."

"I fucking hate this," Xiumin sighs.

"I'm not going to love breaking my body for the amusement of pricks, but if we don't identify and take out this soul-trapping traitor then I'm at great risk of losing my Minseokkie and that's worse.  I will endure temporary agony for permanent peace of mind."

"I know," Xiumin says.  "And that's why I'm willing to do it.  But shit, ChenChen—you have to think of something really nice I can do for you to make up for this.  Not sex—something fun that you've never done before because evil pricks don't let their demons enjoy anything.  That way you can think of it while you're bleeding half to death or whatever."

"I doubt they'll make me bleed—it makes a mess all over their fancy carpets.  And you've always indulged everything fun I've ever even vaguely mentioned wanting to do.  But if you feel the need to make up for what will basically be the worst date ever, I'll let you take me on one of Lu's disgustingly-cheesy dates and fuss over me.  And I'm going to make you come on my fist."

"Deal," Xiumin says.  "It's only fair that you get to wreck me in return."

"Oh, you'll be wrecked, alright.  But with ecstasy, not agony."

Another hiss from Taozi and Lu's snapping fingers interrupt their second attempt at making out.

"Use your mouth to tell him what sort of things to expect," the invidius commands.  "I'm sure you've been to these sadistic parties before, JD."

"Uncountable times," Chen nods.  "There's usually some sort of blindfolded maze or obstacle course where the point is to make the demons fall and hurt themselves, either onto cement or into flames, that sort of thing.  It's possible some demons will even be dusted, but I've endured worse so you shouldn't be worried.  It's also common to choke the familiars until unconsciousness, paint them with acid, confine them with mustard gas, remove fingertips, toes, castrations or mutilations—you've done that to me already."  Chen answers Xiumin's glare with a grin.  "You know I'll be fine once I'm fed, and I'm not going to hold it against you.  Just do whatever they expect you to.  I'll make my human proud."  He leers at said human, but Xiumin still has a rock of unease in the pit of his stomach.

"Chenny," he murmurs.  "I hate to see you suffer."

Chen kisses him softly.  "I'd hate to see you hunted down and torn away from me."

Xiumin rolls his eyes.  "Fair enough.  At some point it would be nice if someone else's life would be held for ransom.  I think it's Lu's turn."

"Hey!" Lu squawks.

"The Temptress knows that would never work," Chen laughs.  "She understands that only one life holds value for me."

"You're such a sap," Xiumin sighs, but he's smiling when his demon tackles him into a kiss.

"Come on, TaoTao," Lu grumbles.  "Let's blow this joint before they start blowing each other."

"Oh, good idea," Chen grins against Xiumin's lips.  "We haven't had a race in a while."

"That's because there's no point," Xiumin laughs.  "You're a fucking demon!"

"Damn right," Chen asserts, swallowing any further protests.


End file.
